


Let's Face The Music And Dance

by kykru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Acapella AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Musical References, basically they all sing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-11-21 11:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11356374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kykru/pseuds/kykru
Summary: Clarke Griffin was determined to win this year's National Acapella Championship, or at least get to New York. To do so, her group, the Acapadia's, needed to succeed against their long-term rivals, the Ground Sound. Clarke would be fairly confident, if it wasn't for the fact that their group began the year in desperate need of a soprano, an alto, and - most importantly - a bass.Enter Bellamy Blake.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from, but once I thought about a High School Acapella AU I just couldn't get it out of my head. I do have to say that I know almost nothing about the technicalities of singing or Acapella, so here's some forewarning in case some of it isn't accurate. If anybody does know and wants to beta this, then let me know!
> 
> This is mostly intended to be a bit of fun, I hope you enjoy it!

Clarke was fairly confident that Raven was late on purpose.

 

She wasn’t sure whether it was to teach her a lesson on being too controlling, or to force her to spend some time with her mother whilst she waited in the kitchen for Raven to arrive.

 

Whichever one it was, Clarke was not happy.

 

As soon as she’d realised that Raven was running late by design, she’d acted out, in the most stubborn way she could think of: she took her morning coffee outside onto the front porch, into the blissfully fresh, sunny morning air, ignored her mother’s attempts at small talk, and glared at the main road.

 

When the sound of screeching tyres followed by Raven’s beaten up red jeep rounded the corner, she abandoned her coffee on the porch and stomped over to the passenger side door.

 

“About time, Raven,” she admonished as she pulled herself, her pile of notes and paperwork, and her oversized bag into the seat and adjusted her seatbelt.

 

Raven grinned, pulling her sunglasses up onto the top of her head. “Well, good morning to you, too, sunshine.”

 

“We agreed you’d get here by 8.30,” Clarke ignored her friend’s sarcasm.

 

“No,” Raven pointed out patiently as she pulled out into traffic. “ _You_ demanded I get here for 8.30. In an effort to be less argumentative, _I_ decided to forgo verbally disagreeing with you.”

 

Clarke huffed out an irritated sigh and shot Raven another glare. “You could have mentioned it, Raven.”

 

“I figured you’d enjoy having something to stress about,” she shrugged. “After all, it’s only the first day back at school, you don’t have any deadlines or extracurricular socials to stress about just yet, and I know you, Clarke - if you don’t find something to raise your blood pressure fast enough, you’ll implode.”

 

“I like to stay busy,” she argued.

 

Raven shot her a wicked smirk. “I hope you plan on _staying_ _busy_ in more than just social clubs this year, Clarke.”

 

She wagged her eyebrows in emphasis. Clarke gave her an eye roll and tilted her head to the side in an unamused gesture, but there was mirth behind her eyes.

 

“You’re a bad influence, Raven Reyes,” she told her as they pulled into the school parking lot.

 

Students walked across the pavement, across the road, across the bike lane, and generally jaywalked all over the place in an excited buzz that only a summer away could generate.

 

“Don’t I know it,” Raven beamed back proudly, then promptly slammed on the brakes and banged both fists against the horn in an angry huff. “Get out of the fucking road, Murphy!”

 

He flipped her off and took his sweet time getting out of the way. “Learn to drive, Reyes!”

 

“Says the boy without a license!” She yelled back, then caught Clarke grinning at her. “What?” She asked, self-conscious.

 

“You’re doing well with this ‘being less argumentative’ thing.”

 

“Oh, bite me, Griffin.”

 

“Oh, you wish,” Clarke joked, causing Raven to bark out a laugh.

 

They pulled into a parking space fairly close to the main entrance, with only minor difficulty and a minimal number of close calls with the teeming crowd of students.

 

An impeccably clean silver Audi pulled into the space beside them, and two seconds later Monty and Jasper bounded out of the car and joined them on the pavement. They had both spent a huge amount of time this summer abroad, with their respective families and then together at some sort of obscure sci-fi convention that Clarke couldn’t remember the name of, so she hadn’t really seen either of them apart from on FaceTime since the end of the last school last year. They both looked exactly the same as they had then, although Jasper was sporting a slight bit of stubble, and Monty had bought new glasses with thicker frames.

 

“Rey-es!” Jasper cupped his hands to his mouth and pretended to call to her as if he was a football coach.

 

“Jasper!” Raven pulled him into a gentle headlock and ruffled Monty’s hair with her spare hand. “Monty!”

 

“Hey Raven, hey Clarke,” Monty waved to them as he attempted to edge out of Raven’s reach and smooth down his hair. “How were your summers?”

 

“Nothing special,” Raven shrugged.

 

They turned to head towards the school entrance.

 

“The usual,” Clarke added. “Summer work with my mum at the hospital, preparations for this year’s competition.”

 

Jasper groaned, exaggerating the noise. “You’re not _already_ planning sectionals, Clarke. Please tell me you’re not.”

 

Clarke opened her mouth in exasperation as they reached her and Raven’s lockers. “What?” She demanded defensively. “It’s never too early to be prepared. And this is my _last_ year, Jasper, we _have_ to go further than regionals.”

 

“You just wanna get that free trip to New York,” Raven grinned as she pulled stuff out of her locker.

 

“I _want_ to perform at the ICCAs on stage with you, my best friends, and be able to put that on my resume. What’s so bad about that?”

 

Monty shrugged in a ‘can’t-argue-with-that’ kind of way.

 

“There she goes already,” Raven sighed. “Clarke Griffin, Ms. Reasonable herself.”

 

“You know,” a voice sidled up to them as they began to head off down the hallway. “You’re gonna need some new voices to get all the way to New York, right?”

 

Clarke pursed her lips and clutched the pages of sheet music and notes in her hands. “I know, Murphy. _You_ just focus on turning up to rehearsals this year, and leave vocal arrangements to me.”

 

“Just to reiterate,” Raven spoke up, pulling Clarke to a stop and putting both her hands on either of Clarke’s shoulders. “I know i’m just the lowly President here, but _please_ ask me for help when you need it Clarke. I know you’re taking a crazy number of AP classes this year, so let me help when I can, yeah?”

 

Clarke nodded in seriousness, then pointed out. “You know, you’re taking more AP classes than I am, right?”

 

Raven smirked as she turned to head into the classroom on their left. “I know, but I’m a bona fide genius, so it’s really like i’m taking no classes at all.”

 

They all laughed as she disappeared and continued on to their Chemistry classroom.

 

“She’s right though, Clarke,” Monty spoke up kindly. “She is the President, if you need help, that’s what she’s there for.”

 

“Raven’s the President,” Clarke agreed. “But _I’m_ the Musical Director, and everybody knows that that’s the real powerhouse behind acapella. Besides, Raven just took the job to put something different on her resume.”

 

“And because she’s a really bangin’ singer,” Murphy pointed out.

 

“And that,” Clark agreed.

 

“So where are you going to find a bass, a soprano and an alto worthy of Acapadia?”

 

She grinned. “Open auditions, obviously.”

 

They all groaned.

 

* * *

 

The bane of Clarke’s life was not AP Chemistry; it was not Mr Kane, who insisted on treating her like a daughter in class despite the fact that he’d only been dating her mother for four months; it wasn’t even the fact that their usual lunch table had been taken over by freshmen so they’d moved two tables down to the middle of the cafeteria.

 

No, the bane of Clarke’s life were The Ground Sound, the rival acapella group at their school.

 

They were of a more modern sound, having been put together by techno wizard and all-round audio genius, senior Lincoln Woods.

 

Both groups auditioned students together, usually on a Wednesday afternoon, and bartered their favourite picks before offering spaces to hopefuls. Usually, they disagreed and sometimes it got ugly. Mostly, it was because the Acapadia’s _needed_ somebody that The Ground Sound simply _wanted_. The year before last, they’d been desperate for a mezzo-soprano, and one had materialised, new to the school, at the perfect moment. The Ground Sound had insisted that Lexa join their group instead, and an all-out war had commenced to win her over. She’d promised Clarke and the Acapadia’s to join them, but flaked on auditions, and come the day of sectionals, she’d turned up with The Ground Sound, fully rehearsed with their songs and in their co-ordinated outfits.

 

It had been messy, not least because her and Clarke had been dating tentatively, and since then both groups had barely been on speaking terms with each other.

 

Clarke secretly liked Lincoln, although she would never admit it to the others. He was down-to-earth, interested in art like her, and visually so intimidating that people would leave her alone if she sat near him in the library. Despite that, he was genuine and kind, and generally took a backseat in negotiations for new members. It was never personal, just business, and he always nodded to her in the hallway.

 

On Wednesday afternoon, she was setting up their desk in front of stage left in the school auditorium when Lincoln entered, laptop bag slung over his shoulder and two girls from his group at his side. They were usually an intimidating sight, especially on stage, but today they were laughing and teasing each other as they approached their desk stage right.

 

Lincoln nodded to her politely and then began setting up his things. Clarke continued to organise her papers and boss Jasper and Monty around until everything was perfect.

 

By the time all the current members from each group had arrived (including even Murphy, to Clarke’s surprise), there were six members of Acapadia and six members of The Ground Sound, making them evenly sized this year.

 

Clarke leaned over to speak to Lincoln before they called in the first audition. “You should know I know that you’re looking for an alto and a soprano.”

 

Lincoln eyed her suspiciously, then nodded once slowly. “That’s right.”

 

“So then, in the spirit of fair competition,” Clarke divulged. “You should know that we need a soprano, an alto and a bass.”

 

It took him by surprise, if the rapid blinking of his eyes was any indication. But then Lincoln nodded once again, and leaned back in his seat. “Thank you,” was all he said, but Clarke knew that he meant it.

 

“First auditionee, come to centre stage,” Echo, a senior sitting beside Lincoln, called out and the auditions began.

 

They were mostly promising. A few students really struggled their way through their chosen audition pieces, but most didn't need to be turned away.

 

The first three girls to audition were sopranos, and they were all perfect for what Clarke was looking for. Next came an audacious, confident freshman who could sing There Are Worst Things I Could Do for the rest of Clarke’s life and she wouldn’t be bored of hearing it. She put a star down by the girls name and slid the piece of paper over the Raven, raising an eyebrow.

 

Two juniors came next, auditioning at vaguely the same quality, but they were tenors and Clarke knew she didn’t need any more of that sound in their mix.

 

Lastly, a senior stepped up to centre stage, and peaked Clarke’s interest immediately. She must have sat up straighter in her chair, because Raven kicked her underneath the table and waggled her eyebrows at her.

 

“Stop,” Clarke whispered in admonishment, but Raven continued to smirk at her and eyed up the boy on stage.

 

“Name and grade?” Monty was asking.

 

“Erm, Bellamy Blake, senior,” He replied in a deep voice that sent a shiver down Clarke’s spine. “Sorry if I suck at this, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

 

“Just sing your best and we’ll do the rest,” Monty reassured him smoothly. Jasper snickered at the rhyming.

 

“Right, yeah,” Bellamy seemed to be agreeing with himself, then coughed awkwardly and raised the microphone to begin singing.

 

He was good. He was attractive. And he was a bass.

 

Clarke knew these factors might mean trouble, in more ways than one. She glanced across at Lincoln and Echo, who was traditionally the more confrontational of the two, and was pleased to see that, while they were interested in his voice, they were arguing seemingly about the _necessity_ of him for their group.

 

When he was done singing Music of the Night from the Phantom of the Opera - coincidentally one of Clarke’s favourite musicals - he stepped off stage with another awkward shuffle and wave. It was odd really, because he seemed calm and cool otherwise, almost like a senior the younger girls would follow in the halls and fantasise about dating, and yet, he was clearly a complete dork in front of groups of people.

 

She sort of loved that about him. _Damn it._

 

He had been the last to audition, so they broke into table discussions on who they wanted to offer places to, ready to fight for them against The Ground Sound afterwards.

 

“That first girl is a must,” Raven was saying.

 

“Her or the second one,” Murphy interjected. “She was good, and much hotter.”

 

Raven smacked him with a rather large library book. “Mind out of the gutter, Murphy. Do you not have any human decency at all?”

 

“I’m just saying,” he protested nonchalantly. “If we’ve gotta make a decision off something, why not that.”

 

Raven rolled her eyes and turned back to the list, pointing at the starred name. “We _need_ Octavia. I honestly think I cried while she was performing.”

 

Clarke nodded, as did the others. “Agreed.”

 

“So that’s our soprano and alto sorted, what about the bass?”

 

“There’s only one option there,” Jasper pointed out.

 

“Please don’t tell me that Clarke’s gonna become all picky again like last year and reject our only option?” Murphy glared at her preemptively.

 

“No, actually,” Clarke huffed, a little self conscious about her next words. “He’s… perfect, actually.”

 

She tried to ignore Raven’s eyebrows as they wagged again. “Atta girl,” Raven smirked and elbowed her in the side.

 

“For the _group_ , Raven,” Clarke hoped she wasn’t blushing as she stacked and restacked her piles of sheet music.

 

“Sure… sure,” Raven, to her credit, _tried_ to hold in her laughter.

 

As it turned out, the Ground Sound had been arguing over Bellamy Blake because Echo wanted to claim him simply so that _they_ couldn’t. Lincoln, tired of the drama and petty fights, had told her to shut up and stop talking. And so they’d agreed that Acapadia could offer Bellamy Blake a spot in their group.

 

The others were less straightforward - they’d liked the second girl, Emori, more than the first, so she was to be their pledge whilst Acapadia offered their soprano spot to a girl by the name of Harper.

 

Octavia Blake was the breaking point.

 

They’d been going round in circles for over twenty minutes before Miller decided to finally speak up. He was usually incredibly quiet in group discussions, always just did as he was told and went along like he wasn’t bothered by the outcome, but he was the one to interject to Clarke in a whisper, “I know she's good, Clarke, but we can get through this year without another alto.”

 

“Yeah,” Monty was quick to agree, leaning across the table to join in hushed tones. “We’ve got Raven, and we’ll manage with a mix of everybody’s voices.”

 

“It’s not worth all this arguing, to be honest,” Raven begrudgingly agreed.

 

Clarke sighed in frustration. She’d really wanted Octavia Blake.

 

“Fine,” she huffed out. “You can pledge her,” she told Lincoln and the others on his table. Luna and her brother slapped their hands hard against the table in victory as Echo smirked in triumph.

 

With the negotiations out of the way, they all began packing up their things. Traditionally they’d post a list up outside the auditorium, but since that practice was antiquated and the kids at school who didn’t live for acapella thought it was lame and used to tear them down, they now forwent that for a much simpler ‘leave-your-number-and-we’ll-text-you’ system.

 

Jasper bumped Clarke’s shoulder with his own as they walked up the central aisle and towards the exit. “Milkshakes at the Drop Ship? We can text Harper and Bellamy when we get there.”

 

“Sure,” Clarke agreed forlornly.

 

“Hey,” Raven slung an arm around her as they wandered through the door. “Octavia was good, but we haven’t lost anything by losing her to the Grounders. We’re still awesome, with the best musical director around, and we’re still gonna kick their ass at sectionals. And besides, she might not even want to join them, don’t lose hope yet.”

 

That did make Clarke feel a little better.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Harper had replied to their text within ten minutes, all excited capital letters and exclamation marks, and they’d all felt much better about losing Octavia to the Grounders. It had lifted Clarke’s spirits until she’d gotten home that night and realised that Bellamy Blake hadn’t yet replied.

 

Her mood only soured as Wednesday turned into Friday, and he still hadn’t replied.

 

She’d wanted to begin rehearsals that Saturday, but without a full sound it would all be rather pointless.

 

On Friday at lunch time, whilst she debated the subtleties of Founding Father politics with a girl from her homeroom, he walked straight past her, lunch tray in one hand and book in the other.

 

She didn’t blame him for missing her entirely, he had his nose so much in his book that she was surprised he hadn’t walked into anyone or even knew where he was going.

 

She nudged Raven.

 

“Ouch,” she complained with a mouthful of food. “I’m deep in thought about theoretical physics, it better be important Clarke?”

 

“Over there,” Clarke didn’t whisper, but she lowered her voice a little. “Blake.”

 

“Octavia?” Raven looked hopeful.

 

“No,” Clarke ground out. “ _Bellamy_.”

 

Raven, Monty and Murphy all turned their heads towards him at the same moment.

 

“Where?”

 

“What’s he doing?”

 

“Has he still not replied to your text?”

 

“No,” Clarke huffed. “And I don’t know why. He could at least _say_ something to me, we have three classes together.”

 

“It’s easy really, he’s still making a decision. He’s not sure whether he wants to continue with acapella now that his sister’s been offered a place with the Grounders,” Miller suddenly spoke up. He was focusing on his food, barely even making eye contact with the rest of them, but his words drew all their eyes on him.

 

“What?”

 

“What?!”

 

“I’m sorry, _where_ exactly did you get this hidden intel?” Raven asked, exasperated.

 

Miller glanced up at them and shrugged. “He went to tryouts for ice hockey, he’s a reserve for Garrison, we chatted at lunch yesterday.”

 

Clarke was speechless.

 

“So he… auditioned because his sister did?” Murphy asked sceptically.

 

Miller shrugged. “I guess so. He became her legal guardian at the beginning of the year, so I guess they’re close. Probably wants to look out for her.”

 

“Well, that’s just…”

 

“Honourable?”

 

“Overprotective?”

 

“Plain weird?”

 

Clarke pursed her lips together and set her shoulders, making her mind up.

 

“I don’t care what his reasons are,” she pushed herself up from the table. “We need him.”

 

Raven and the others could only look on with intrigue and hope as she picked up her lunch tray and set off determinedly in the direction of Bellamy Blake.

 

He was reading the same book, head bent down towards the table, one hand holding open the spin like he’d juggled lunch and reading a million times before, and the other picking at his food with a fork. He hadn’t been wearing the glasses on stage so she figured they were for reading, but they suited him well.

 

She invited herself into the seat on the bench opposite him without invitation, but as the table had previously been deserted apart from him, she knew that he was aware of her.

 

“Hi,” she opened with.

 

He flicked his eyes up to her once, held her gaze for a moment, then glanced back down to his book. “Clarke.”

 

She tilted her head in vague surprise. “You know my name.”

 

“I make a point of knowing who I give my phone number to,” he informed her reasonably.

 

She couldn’t argue with that.

 

She shuffled in her seat and leaned forwards to wrestle his attention away from his book.

 

“Look, Bellamy,” she began, “I know we don’t know each other, and I know you haven’t made up your mind yet, but I came over here to make you reconsider.”

 

He put his book down upside down and caught her eye. “Reconsider?”

 

“Joining Acapadia,” she clarified. His jaw ticked so she rushed on before he could give her a list of reasons why he wouldn’t. “It wouldn’t just be something on the side to get close to your sister, it would be something _for you_. Octavia’s gone to the Grounders, we wish she hadn’t but that was her decision to make. _You_ , on the other hand… Bellamy, you could really make a difference to our chances this year. We could go to New York! _New York_.”

 

He remained quiet but licked his lips and started over her shoulder like he was seriously considering it.

 

“You’d see Octavia too,” Clarke continued. “The Grounders… look, don’t tell the others I said this but they’re better than us. Sometimes. We _might_ get a chance to go to the ICCAs, but with Octavia, they definitely will. That’s a whole year of sharing the auditorium, travelling to sectionals, staying out of state with them for regionals. I’m not saying you have to follow her around, but you’d have your own friends who just coincidentally mix with hers.”

 

She knew she sounded a little desperate, but she _needed_ Bellamy Blake.

 

Or rather, _they_ needed him, she should say.

 

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and glanced up at her. “You really think we could go to New York?” he asked hopefully.

 

“Really,” she smiled. “With you, anyway.”

 

“And… without me?” He asked carefully.

 

Clarke sighed. “To be honest, we just don’t have the range without you. We’ll be dead on our feet by sectionals.”

 

She saw the exact moment he made his mind up. He closed his book completely, still making sure to carefully bookmark his page, and leaned towards her across the table on his elbows.

 

“Ok,” He said. “I’m in—,“ her face split into a wide grin, “— _but_ , I’m not doing this for Octavia.”

 

There was something tentative and embarrassed in his tone, which made her look at him carefully. He was equal parts lone wolf and intelligent, overprotective big brother, and he was clearly anxious to not be labelled a follower.

 

She made sure her face was serious when she caught his eye, gently placed her hand over his on the table, and said firmly, “I know you’re doing this for _you,_ Bellamy. You don't have to explain yourself.”

 

He considered her for a moment, then gave a small nod, the corner of his lip twitching into the barest hint of a smile, then pulled his hand back.

 

“So,” he said excitedly, changing the subject. “When do we start?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke had already told the others they were to be at rehearsals on Saturday, bright and early at 8am. They hadn’t confirmed Bellamy at that point, but she had been ever confident she would get the voices they needed this year, and it had paid off.

 

She’d been at the auditorium since 7.30am, organising her sheet music, checking the piano was tuned in case they needed it for pitching, and generally marking out spots for choreography.

 

The first to arrive was Murphy, of all people, looking suspiciously alert and ready to go.

 

“You’re early,” she deadpanned from the stage when his silhouette made its way down the central aisle and towards her.

 

His form shrugged and lopped over a few rows of seating as he made a beeline for where she was pacing out marks downstage left.

 

“Anywhere’s better than being at home, even at 7am.”

 

Sometimes Murphy was alarmingly honest.

 

Clarke paused for a moment, unsure what to say.

 

Instead, she nodded soberly and held out the multitude of coloured tape in her hand as an offering.

 

“You can help me with this if you like,” she offered.

 

He took her up on that and climbed up onto the stage. She directed him where to put which colours, and they argued over who should be where for a good fifteen minutes until Miller and Raven arrived.

 

They sauntered in, looking much too worse for wear, both wearing sunglasses and clearly hungover; Miller's shirt collar was rolled back the wrong way like he'd gotten dressed in a hurry and Raven was holding her leg brace in her right hand, clearly having had no time to put it on.

 

She'd been in a road accident a few years ago - Clarke remembered the day she'd been brought out of class to be told the news. They all counted her beyond lucky to have survived, and even luckier to be able to walk.

 

Raven limped down the central aisle, waving her leg brace accusatorially towards where Clarke and Murphy stood side by side on stage, comparing stride lengths.

 

“Clarke _Griffin_ ,” Raven yelled halfheartedly across the small auditorium. “My first official act this year as President is to cancel all rehearsals before 10am.”

 

Murphy rolled his eyes so that Clarke could see, and then went to sit down, knowing that no more work was going to get done for a while.

 

“Motion denied,” Clarke told her without missing a beat, and climbed down from the stage to meet them at the front of the stalls.

 

“Seriously,” Miller complained. “8am?”

 

“It’s the only time nobody else wanted," Clarke conceded. "We’ve got to be out by ten for the Shakespeare group.”

 

“Did you ever consider,” Raven grumbled as she threw her bag into the aisle of the first row of seats. “That nobody wanted this time because it was _too damn early._ ”

 

“I did,” Clarke made no effort to sound less unapologetic. “But it’s ours for the rest of the year, so stop complaining Reyes and warm up those vocal chords of yours.”

 

She turned back to organise her paperwork, handing stacks to Murphy to look over, so Raven took that as her cue to wander off towards the piano as Monty, Jasper and Harper made an appearance through the back door.

 

“Hi guys!” Harper, at least, was excited to be there. “First rehearsal of the season!”

 

Most of them gave a fairly audible "whoop" of excitement.

 

Jasper bounded down the aisle a few steps behind her and Monty, heading towards Miller as they wandered towards Clarke.

 

“There’s coffee and bagels on the piano,” Clarke greeted them. “We’re starting in ten.”

 

She heard Raven exclaim, “Coffee? Why didn’t you say so before!” as they all clambered towards the free breakfast she had laid out on top of the piano.

 

Because she was organising her sheet music and evaluating each song with a critical eye, she heard Bellamy’s voice before she saw him.

 

“—don’t need to come with me, O,” he was grumbling in his trademark deep voice. “I’m older than you, you know.”

 

“I just want to make sure this is for real and you’re not secretly going to sulk in the library,” a female voice mocked him and floated down the aisle towards her from the door off to the left of the stage. It led directly out onto a parking lot so the sunlight filtered in for a brief moment before it was closed behind the Blakes.

 

Clarke supposed it was an accident, but they were both wearing jeans and a black shirt, matching so subtly it was almost unnoticeable, and the resemblance between the two of them was uncanny.

 

_They shared a ridiculously beautiful set of genes, alright._

 

Although they'd both moved to Arkadia this year and only been enrolled at Ark High for such a short time, from what she’d heard, half the school was already in love with one or both of the Blake's.

 

“Blake!” Miller called in greeting from his position crowding round the breakfast. He waved a hand then went back to chatting with Monty.

 

Bellamy reached Clarke as he raised a hand to wave back at Miller.

 

He leaned against the raised platform of the stage, hands in his pockets as he surveyed what she was doing.

 

“Hey.”

 

She smiled up at him. “Hi Bellamy, I’m glad you could make it.”

 

“I’m glad I could too,” he said and watched her pensively for a moment whilst she focused on her sheet music.

 

Octavia made a disgruntled noise which startled him out of his reverie.

 

“Oh, right, erm, this is my sister, Octavia. You sort of met before.”

 

“Nice to officially meet you, Octavia,” Clarke said politely, making an effort to focus on them both instead of the paperwork in front of her.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t join your acapella group,” Octavia opened with. “But I’m not changing my mind just because you’ve got Bell now.”

 

_Oh._

 

She could only blink at Octavia for a second, caught off-guard by her blunt words.

 

Octavia wasn’t _rude_ , as such, but she was clearly defensive and stubborn, and Clarke knew that mix all too well.

 

She decided to take it for what it was - an abrasive personality and nothing personal.

 

“That’s ok,” she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “We didn’t want him for you, we need _him_.”

 

Octavia grinned and slapped her brother teasingly on the arm. “They _need_ you, Bell. See, I told you you could have a life without me.”

 

He rolled his eyes, embarrassed by his little sister, and said slowly, with a hint of love in his voice, “O, please, stop talking.”

 

She smirked at him and it was eerily similar to his own mannerisms.

 

“Well, I guess I best get going then,” she announced cheerily. “Don’t want to snoop on the competition.”

 

And then she bounded away, back out the side door and into the sunlight.

 

After a brief moment, Clarke made eye contact with Bellamy.

 

“She’s…” She searched for the right word.

 

“Opinionated?” Bellamy supplied, an amused smile playing at his lips. He took some of the sheet music from the top of Clarke’s pile and pretended to peruse it. “Assertive? Feisty? Trust me, I’ve had all the synonyms.”

 

“Confident,” Clarke laughed as she plucked the music back from him. “I was going to say confident.”

 

He laughed out a quick bark, so loudly that the others glanced over to see what was going on. “Thank you.”

 

“Come on,” Clarke finally burst their bubble, self conscious now that they were being watched. “We’ve got a lot of work to do before sectionals.”

 

* * *

 

 

Initial rehearsals were slow. They managed to tune a lot of their voices and work out who sounded best with who, and agree on a lot of ideas (and fancy dance moves), but nothing concrete was planned by the end of their first two sessions. Clarke proposed that they each do some research on songs that they could work on, and they agreed to look for three in total - two sung by a mixture of the entire group, one upbeat and one of a lower pace, and one solo ballad.

 

They weren’t overly worried about sectionals now that they had a range of tone, but they still wanted to be prepared. And they still wanted to put on a good show.

 

Bellamy and Harper had settled in to the group almost seamlessly. Harper wasn’t very good with technical terminology and Bellamy was a little clumsy on his feet, but overall they’d lucked out. During their second rehearsal they'd discovered that Harper used to be a competing gymnast, which opened up a whole world of acrobatic dance moves and flips that would only serve them well on stage. Bellamy was also an incredible asset - Clarke knew show tunes like the back of her hand, but Bellamy had an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of musical theatre and could recite whole song lists from albums at the drop of a hat.

 

Neither of them needed hand holding, for which Clarke was thankful. It gave her more time to plan and arrange their songs.

 

Once they’d finally agreed on them.

 

The week after their third rehearsal, Clarke met them for lunch on the grass outside the science building. She had been held up by a meeting with her careers advisor so they were already full-flow in the middle of a debate by the time she had arrived.

 

Bellamy was lying on the grass off to the side, seemingly just watching the argument unfold and trying to keep up.

 

She bounded over and smacked Bellamy’s feet until he moved them and she could sit down in the space between him and Miller.

 

“What’s the poison today?” She asked him conspiratorially.

 

“Whether we should do musical numbers or not at sectionals,” He told her quietly as he sat up and bumped his shoulder against hers.

 

“Hmm,” Clarke gave a noncommittal nod of her head as she dug out her sandwich from her bag. “Who’s winning?”

 

Bellamy grinned. “Raven, I think.”

 

“What does she want?”

 

“Complete and total anarchy on stage.”

 

He wasn’t wrong.

 

“—is all I’m saying,” Raven was arguing over the commotion as Murphy and Monty traded off song titles.

 

“Judges look for uniformity,” Harper pointed out. “We can’t just barrel onto stage with no plan.”

 

“Planning who sings which bit of songs we all hate seems completely pointless,” Raven argued.

 

“And _that_ is why Clarke’s the musical director of this group and not you,” Miller reminded her.

 

“This isn’t rocket science, Raven, it’s just acapella,” Monty pointed out, trying to be fair.

 

A few of them gave mock-gasps.

 

" _Just_ acapella?!"

 

“Oh, Monty,” Raven reached forward and pretended to caress his face. “Sweet, sweet Monty… of course this isn’t rocket science, I could do that in my sleep. Composing an arrangement for eight people? Hell no.”

 

“That’s why you have Clarke, though, right?” Bellamy pointed out, echoing Miller’s words.

 

Clarke nodded. “And I’ve decided... we’re doing show tunes.”

 

They erupted into a bustle of commotion.

 

“What, when?”

 

“Why didn’t you say so before!”

 

“Yes!”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes at them all and raised her voice. “Look, we’re competing with the Grounders, and mashing up modern chart music into a kick-ass setlist is _their_ forte. If we try to do it, we’ll just be giving the judges and audiences something exactly the same to compare our set to. If we do show tunes, we’ll be different. It's always been our thing, so we might as well do it properly.”

 

Miller wasn’t too happy about it, but they all understood where she was coming from.

 

“So…” Bellamy asked first. “Which ones?”

 

“I have a few ideas,” Clarke told them excitedly as she opened her notebook.

 

* * *

 

For the rest of lunch they discussed song options and traded off song titles from both popular and obscure musicals.

 

Eventually, they had created a list which was meant to be a _short-list,_ but which actually totalled over thirty potential songs.

 

By the time they met for their fourth rehearsal the day after, they were all committed to two group numbers - an emotional You Will Be Found from a more contemporary musical, and the classic Grease Lightning to pick up people’s moods.

 

The solo was the thorn in their side.

 

“It should be As Long As He Needs Me from Oliver,” Monty was saying as they all lounged over seats at the back of the auditorium stalls on Saturday morning. “It’s emotional, it’s got great vocal range, everybody knows it but it’s not _over-sung_.”

 

Murphy gently kicked him in the back of the head from where his feet had been propped up on the row of seats behind him.

 

“ _Not_ over-sung?” He scoffed. “What world are you living in?”

 

Monty glared at him, so Clarke interrupted before an argument could ensue.

 

“Ok, that’s one suggestion. Anybody else? I’m in favour of a more emotional ballad, we’ve got Grease Lightning as our gimmick already.”

 

“How about On My Own from Les Mis?”

 

“ _Way_ too over-sung,” Harper pointed out quickly.

 

“How about something from Newsies?”

 

“Just because you love that musical like nobody’s business,” Raven told Jasper bluntly. “Doesn’t mean the rest of us care about it.”

 

Jasper gasped and looked genuinely offended. Monty patted him on the shoulder reassuringly.

 

“It wouldn’t translate to the audience,” Clarke tried to be more reasonable. “We don't have time to explain the context. We need a song that explains itself. I'm not opposed to it being, y'know, _very_ theatre-esque, just so long as the audience know what the context is.”

 

“Can’t we think outside the box a little bit?” Raven asked. “I’m sick of doing the same white people show tunes every year.”

 

Bellamy tried not to laugh at that. His sister would like Raven.

 

“That’s it,” Clarke exclaimed, sitting up straighter in her seat, drawing everybody’s attention. “I’ve got the perfect song.”

 

“Let me guess,” Murphy rolled his eyes. “And you’e the perfect person to sing it?”

 

She glared at him, and so did Bellamy, Harper and Miller.

 

“No,” Clarke said quickly. “Not me. _Raven_.”

 

Every eye turned to Raven. She looked as shocked as them.

 

“Me?” She asked, self-conscious. “I’m just here to have fun and mess around between classes. I don’t want that responsibility.”

 

“Raven,” Harper began softly. “Your voice is incredible, why shouldn’t you have the chance to show it off.”

 

The others all nodded and murmured their agreements, which seemed to bolster Raven’s mood a little.

 

"And you missed out on that solo last year because of the voting," Monty continued. "You  _deserve_ a solo this year."

 

She considered it carefully for a moment.

 

“Alright, what song?” She finally asked Clarke tentatively. “What were you thinking?”

 

“A modern musical classic,” Clarke told her happily. “Nina’s song from In The Heights.”

 

“‘ _Breathe_ ’?” Raven’s eyes lit up and a slow grin spread out across her face. Clarke knew full well that it was one of a few musicals that Raven genuinely and wholly enjoyed. “That’s… perfect.”

 

“I know,” Clarke grinned. “And it has great potential for acapella bass notes to accompany you.”

 

Bellamy was smiling until he realised - that meant him.

 

“Who, me?” He asked, alarmed, when he noticed all their faces now looking at him.

 

“Think about it, Bellamy,” Clarke placed a hand on his forearm reassuringly. “You’ll get to use your voice but you won’t have to stand too much in the spotlight. It’s perfect for your first show.”

 

He seemed unsure but as soon as he made eye contact with her, he knew he was impervious to her excitement.

 

“Fine,” he sighed and she clapped her hands against her thighs in success. “But only because I want to make you all happy.”

 

“ _All_ of us, _sure_ ,” Murphy smirked from across the row.

 

Bellamy glared at him whilst Clarke lobbed a roll of coloured tape at him, hitting him in the face and knocking him off his perilous perch and into the aisle.

 

Monty and Harper helped him up off the floor once they’d finished laughing.

 

* * *

 

“Listen,” Bellamy was saying animatedly as they walked home together on a cold winters afternoon in November. “I don’t _reject_ the notion that all Greek myths had an element of political bias to them, I’m just saying that if you believe that they were created for the _sole purpose_ of political propaganda, you shouldn’t be teaching Ancient History.”

 

Clarke watched him in fascination as he worked himself up over a particularly irritating teacher whom he disagreed with almost every class. Friday afternoons were her favourite because, not only did she have the weekend and rehearsals to look forward to, but she always walked home with just Bellamy whilst Octavia was at kickboxing, and he always had Ancient History on a Friday afternoon, so each walk was a foray into the brain and inner workings of Bellamy Blake.

 

“—-Can you believe that?” He was asking, and then suddenly his eyes were on hers instead of the path ahead and she had to look away quickly to hide that she was staring.

 

“Uh huh,” she nodded vigorously to make up for it. “How… demanding.”

 

Bellamy surveyed her for a moment. “You weren’t listening to a word of that, were you?” He asked, but he didn’t seem to take it personally.

 

“I’m sorry, Bellamy” She told him. “I was thinking about how deep your voice was.”

 

He shot her a surprised, somewhat confused, somewhat panicked, look.

 

A second too late, she realised how that had sounded.

 

“No,” she rushed on with. “I mean, how great it is to have you this year. I mean, not that I _have you_ , I mean, not that it’s _me_ you— I’m making a mess of this.”

 

She gave up, throwing her hands out in front of her in a gesture that meant _“I-give-up”._

 

Bellamy laughed and watched her from under his eyelashes in that serious way that made Clarke feel like he was looking into her soul. “I think I get what you mean, Clarke.”

 

She sighed and corrected herself. “I just meant that I’m thankful you’re a part of our group, Bellamy. We really could get to Nationals this year.”

 

“Let’s just try to get me through Sectionals first, ok,” he grinned, slowing to a stop as they reached the corner at the end of town where they usually parted ways. He paused, dawdling, and seemed to consider his next words carefully for a moment. Eventually he tried for a non-chalant, “So, any plans this afternoon?”

 

“I’m meeting my mum at the hospital to organise work experience,” She turned to face him, hitching her bag higher up onto her shoulder. “ _So_ fun.”

 

Bellamy’s lips twitched into a small smile.

 

“What about you?” She asked.

 

He kicked the ground and seemed suddenly interested in the lines on the pavement. “I’m… er, taking O to visit our mother’s grave on Sunday.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“It’s… it’s ok,” He tried to reassure her. _H_ _er._ Clarke was always baffled by Bellamy’s selfless ability to put other’s emotional needs before his own. “We’re doing better, in a way, now that she’s gone. Seeing her ill was… god, it was terrible, but at least she’s at peace now, y’know?”

 

Clarke smiled sadly at him for a moment but didn’t want it to come across as pity, so she leaned forwards and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

 

When she pulled away, he was smiling without seeming to realise it, his eyes trained on hers.

 

“What was that for?” He asked.

 

“For telling me,” She told him simply. “Now, do you want to get milkshakes so I have an excuse to be late to meet my mother?”

 

“Definitely,” He grinned as she linked her arm through his and they turned to walk down the road together and towards the Drop Ship, their local hang out spot.

 

When they arrived, the snow had just begun to fall and they were freezing cold. Bellamy pulled the door open and ducked inside after Clarke, trying desperately to warm up his glove-less hands.

 

“ _How can you remember to pick up four text books on Greek Mythology on your way out the door, but you can’t remember to put_ gloves _on?” She’d mocked him this morning._

 

Clarke peeled hers off her own hands as they wandered towards the counter.

 

“Chocolate Surprise, or Vanilla Melt?” She asked, guessing his thoughts, as she read off the specials board.

 

When he didn’t answer, she turned to see him standing closer than she thought and looking intently at her. His hand came up to wipe away some snow that had settled high upon her cheekbone.

 

They smiled tentatively at each other for a long second, until they were interrupted by Jasper.

 

“Hey guys!” He appeared out of nowhere, in true Jasper style. “What’s up?”

 

They each took half a step back as quick as a flash.

 

“Jasper!” Clarke greeted him quickly. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Helping wingman Monty with Miller,” He laughed. “Those two are so hopeless.”

 

“Monty likes Miller?” Clarke asked exasperated.

 

“Confirmed,” Jasper replied smoothly, pointing a finger gun at her. “The real question is, does _Miller_ like _Monty_?”

 

“He does,” Bellamy answered almost immediately. They both glanced at him in surprise. “Just trust me on this one, he’s… he’s _definitely_ into Monty.”

 

They both considered it for a moment, then Jasper smiled slowly.

 

“Excellent news,” he slapped Bellamy on the shoulder, which quickly turned Bellamy’s smile into a frown, but he was off back to their corner table before Bellamy could respond.

 

Clarke shook her head as they turned back to the counter. “Honestly, this group just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”

 

“You’re telling me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! The pace will be picking up a bit from now on, although I have extended the number of chapters overall from 5 to 7 (blame my brain, oops).
> 
> I'm kykru on tumblr, come talk to me about Bellarke or send me fic requests.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regionals, finally, yay!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and kudos'ing this fic, you all make me happy and happiness makes me write. You're the best. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> A/N: If you see me write apace instead of acapella, it's my laptop rebelling via autocorrect. It won't stop. I can't stop it. Send help.

By the time sectionals rolled around, they were a well oiled acapella machine, if such a thing existed.

 

Bellamy and Octavia met Clarke a block away from school on the Tuesday morning before the weekend competition.

 

She was late and had rushed to catch up with them. Octavia, as usual, walked with her constant air of easy beauty and terrifying confidence. She had on a hoodie which Clarke knew for a fact was Bellamy’s because _she’d_ stolen it from him last week when they’d been studying late in the library and it had gotten cold.

 

This morning, when Clarke had first spotted them ahead, Octavia was trying to steal her older brother’s beanie hat from atop his head as well.

 

“O!” He was laughing as she approached them. “Get your own.”

 

“But I don’t— oh, hey Clarke,” she spotted the blonde before he did, but his head whipped around at her words and his eyes immediately landed on her. “Can you please tell my brother that I’d look better in his hat than he does.”

 

Clarke pretended to consider this, but really took the opportunity to look Bellamy up and down.

 

“Sorry, Octavia,” she said eventually. “He’s pulling it off.”

 

Octavia huffed out a sigh and mumbled something about choosing the wrong person to ask. Bellamy said nothing but looked rather pleased with himself if the slight smile tugging on his lips was anything to go by.

 

“Last minute homework, or did you just stay up watching anime way too late again?” He asked her, indicating her flustered appearance.

 

“It’s scary how well you know me,” Clarke responded, effectively answering the question.

 

“You’re an open book, Clarke,” He pointed out.

 

Octavia made a disgusted noise as they rounded the last corner and the school came into view.

 

“Can we please talk about something other than the latent sexual tension between you two?”

 

Bellamy spluttered and Clarke’s eyebrows receded into her hairline.

 

“Er, sure,” She managed to choke out, doing her best to avoid looking at Bellamy. “How’s preparation for sectionals coming, Octavia?”

 

“Oh no,” Bellamy interrupted. “We have a strict ‘no-acapella-talk’ rule at home.”

 

Octavia rolled her eyes.

 

“Well we’re not at home right now, are we, big brother?” She pointed out. She turned to Clarke. “We’re pretty much as prepared as we’re gonna be. I can’t tell you what we’re singing, of course, but I _can_ tell you that you better bring it on Saturday.”

 

Clarke laughed. “Don’t worry, we will.”

 

As they approached the main gates they spotted Lincoln, Luna and Nyko waiting for Octavia. She hesitated, then came to a halt and turned to lean close towards the other two, her face going completely serious.

 

“Just between us,” she told them, chewing her bottom lip anxiously. “I know I don’t act like it, but I’m sort of terrified of going up on that stage on Saturday.”

 

“You’ll do great, O,” Her brother reassured her easily.

 

Octavia smiled at her brother, ever her supporter, but her eyes sought out Clarke.

 

She was nervous.

 

“Octavia,” Clarke started carefully. She knew she could sway Octavia’s performance with her next words, even amplify her nerves or put her off her game, but competition wasn’t about getting the upper hand over your opponents and Clarke wasn’t the sort of person to fight dirty. She was only interested in a fair fight, and that meant _good, honest_ competition. For that, Octavia and the Grounders needed to be on the top of their game. “I’ve heard you sing, you have _so much talent_ , you’re incredible. There’s no amount of nerves that could take that away from you. When you’re on stage, you’ve just got to find your centre and focus, your hours of rehearsals will do the rest.”

 

Octavia took a deep breath and slowly nodded her head as she took it all in.

 

“Thanks,” she smiled weakly at Clarke.

 

Then, quick as a flash, she was back to her usual boisterous self.

 

“I’ll see you losers later, try not to miss me too much,” she waved them goodbye over her shoulder and went to join her friends.

 

After watching her go, Bellamy and Clarke walked in silence towards the side entrance. Clarke looped their arms together easily and they ambled peacefully towards her locker. Bellamy leaned against it as she pulled out books and sheet music. He was oddly contemplative.

 

“That was nice of you,” he told her after a moment.

 

“Hmm?” She was focusing on not dropping everything.

 

“With Octavia,” he clarified. “You could have psyched her out, but you didn’t. Thank you.”

 

She looked up at him seriously.

 

“Bellamy, I would _never_ do that, and definitely not to your sister.”

 

“Well, thanks, either way,” he repeated awkwardly, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “You’re a good person, Clarke.”

 

She hoped her cheeks weren’t embarrassingly red.

 

“So are you, Bellamy,” she told him genuinely. “Now come on, let’s get to class.”

 

* * *

 

On Friday afternoon they had all planned to meet in the auditorium for one last, easy run-through of their songs and a bit of choreography practice before the competition on Saturday. Clarke usually prided herself on being earlier than the others and ready to go by the time they arrived, but she’d been delayed by her Latin teacher giving out late homework, so she arrived at the same time as most of the others.

 

Which was still ten minutes late.

 

They wandered into the auditorium, turning the lights on as they went.

 

“I can’t believe I’m late and i’m still earlier than you all,” Clarke joked as she stepped over the threshold first.

 

“Hilarious,” Raven’s voice dripped with sarcasm, but she looked amused, not offended.

 

“We’re all here, no need to stress, Clarke,” Miller pointed out.

 

“Not all of us.” 

 

“Oh yeah, one man down.”

 

“Where is your boyfriend?” Murphy asked outright in a bored tone.

 

Clarke glared at him to cover up her embarrassment.

 

“We’re not joined at the hip, Murphy,” she snapped.

 

“Could have fooled us.”

 

She slammed her books onto the desk stage left.

 

“Oh, be careful Murphy,” Raven mocked him, sounding not at all worried for his safety. “Don’t mention their relationship, you’ll get chewed up and spat out, trust me.”

 

“If you don’t get a brick wall first,” Miller piped up.

 

The others laughed.

 

A thought flickered into Clarke’s mind. _Did Bellamy and Miller talk about_ her _? Or more specifically, about their relationship?_

 

“Who’s going into a brick wall?” Bellamy’s deep voice called innocently from the doorway as he rushed into the auditorium and down the aisle to meet them.

 

“Nobody,” Harper piped up quickly.

 

“Or everybody,” Clarke muttered under her breath.

 

“O..kay,” His brow furrowed for a moment and he exchanged a look with Raven, who pretended to be completely innocent.

 

“Where have you been anyway?” Miller asked.

 

“I got caught up with Octavia’s Art in the Modern Age professor,” He sighed, placing his bag under the desk by Clarke. “She wants Octavia to get a tutor. Says it’s either that or she has to drop the class.”

 

“Oh, right, legal guardian duties,” Jasper reminded them all.

 

“What did Octavia say when she heard?”

 

“She said there’s no way in hell she’s dropping that class,” Bellamy looked pretty proud, all things considered.

 

“So, get her a tutor then?” Harper pointed out.

 

“One that’ll tutor _O_? And for _free_?”

 

”I know one,” Clarke piped up.

 

They all stared at her.

 

“You do?”

 

She nodded. “And he’ll do it for free. Well, for some Latin tutoring, I know he’s failing,” she addressed only Bellamy, ignoring the others.

 

He looked suspicious. “What’s the catch?”

 

She made a noncommittal ‘eh’ gesture. “It’s Lincoln Woods.”

 

“The Grounder guy?”

 

“You must be joking.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

The others were surprised that she’d be recommending an arch enemy, but Bellamy was definitely interested.

 

“Besides, Lincoln and Octavia are already friends,” she was saying.

 

“—That’s one word for it,” Murphy drawled. Bellamy’s look in his direction was beyond dark.

 

“Just think about it,” Clarke finished. “It’s better than enduring Octavia’s wrath, right?”

 

Bellamy evidently was thinking the same because five minutes later he asked her for Lincoln’s number, ready and willing to set it up right then and there. He had enough time to send a text whilst Clarke helped everybody through a vocal warm up, and then they were all focused on one thing - their sectionals performance.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After rehearsals they all traipsed back to Monty’s parent’s house for some well-deserved reckless behaviour. They stayed up that Friday night whilst Monty’s parents were out of town and drank way too much from the family’s alcohol stash. Clarke couldn’t remember the details of the night, but there was a lot of laughing, a lot of dancing on Monty’s dad’s prized coffee table, and a lot of insisting they all keep hydrated with a glass of water every hour so that their voices were ok for the next day.

 

Needless to say, come Saturday morning, they were thankful for the responsibility of their past selves, but they were still all feeling a little less than perfect.

 

“Whose idea was alcohol?” Harper groaned from the backseat of the minibus they’d hired as they trundled down the highway.

 

Murphy, who was driving and who hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol the night before, smirked at her through the rearview mirror.

 

“I think it was Clarke who said the immortal words _“I can be fun’_ ,” Bellamy sighed from his seat near the back, his head leaning against the window.

 

Clarke, who was sitting beside him, her head on his shoulder and legs tucked underneath herself, barely opened an eye to defend herself.

 

“I didn’t mean ‘ _let’s all get drunk the day before sectionals’,_ that was Jasper’s fault.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Either way, we’re going to need to pull into some sort of fast food place,” Raven commanded.

 

“On it,” Murphy mock saluted her.

 

They pulled in for food and still made it to the high school where sectionals were taking place with more than an hour and a half to spare.

 

As they unloaded their bags from the back of the minibus, Clarke and Raven went to check them in. Their dressing room was shared with another school from the local area, a group of ten female acapella singers who sung almost exclusively Lady GaGa songs. They were good, but they didn’t have as diverse a range as the majority of the other acapella groups to compete reasonably at Nationals level.

 

Raven and her had begun setting up on the left hand side of the room as the other group completed their finishing touches to their dresses. The room was fairly small and hectic with such a large number of students rushing about, and it only got busier as the others arrived.

 

When Bellamy entered the room, hair a mess and reading glasses framing his face, two girls were exiting and all three of them almost collided.

 

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled awkwardly as he stepped round them and over to Clarke. The girls giggled their wait out of the room and down the hall.

 

Bellamy seemed entirely ignorant.

 

“Is it always this hectic?” He asked Clarke instead, glancing around the room at the bustle.

 

She smiled kindly. “This is _mild_. Just wait until Nationals.”

 

“Hell,” Raven piped up from where she was applying Harper’s eyeliner. “Wait for _Regionals._ ”

 

“Don’t psych him out before the big show,” Miller admonished, clapping Bellamy on the back as he passed. “It’s hectic, Blake, but when you get on stage, everything stops.”

 

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Bellamy replied warily.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They were ready in just under half an hour - by which time the other group had already been called to perform - and then they did a few warm ups, but mostly they were too nervous to do much more than wait in their room.

 

By the time their first warning call came, fifteen minutes before they were due on stage, they were getting cabin fever and needed to escape their dressing room.

 

They made their way as one down to the wings of the stage in matching attire - they all wore black jeans and dark blue shirts, trying to look somewhat smart but not like they were trying too hard.

 

Already at the wings were the Grounders of The Ground Sound. They were due to be announced any moment and then they could take to the stage for their allotted 11 minutes.

 

Octavia was on the edge of their circle, looking excited but nervous, and when she spotted her brother she headed in their direction immediately, ignoring Echo’s dirty stare.

 

“Bell!” She exclaimed. “Clarke! Break a leg when you’re out there, we’re due on any moment.”

 

“Break a leg, O,” Bellamy gave her a quick hug side-on.

 

The MC announced them and the lights were going down, and Clarke had just enough time to reach for Octavia to offer her own hug and whisper quickly in her ear, “Remember to enjoy it while you’re out there.”

 

She nodded, and then she was whisked away by Lincoln and Nyko and they were stepping out onto the stage and in front of the awaiting audience.

 

Acapadia watched seriously from the sidelines, eyes glued to their main competition.

 

They opened with the first verse of Set Fire To The Rain by Adele, taking it in turns to vocalise lines, and then as the chorus hit, Octavia broke out into her solo, and the audience loved it.

 

Clarke’s eyes slid from the figures on stage to watch Bellamy as he watched his sister.

 

He was transfixed, eyes glued to her. His face was impassive but his eyes said it all. Tears threatened to spill over, and she knew this was a turning point for him.

 

She reached out her hand and took his in her own.

 

He broke out of his spell for a moment as the song ended and faded into Timber, a larger group number with Echo at the forefront, and he glanced down at the touch. She squeezed her hand in his and he squeezed back gently.

 

“She’s got this,” She whispered to him. He just nodded, unable to speak through the lump in his throat.

 

By the end of their set, the audience were on their feet giving raucous applause, and even Acapadia had to admit they’d given a fantastic performance. Most of them even clapped backstage as The Ground Sound came off stage.

 

Octavia bounded over and into Bellamy’s arms, a huge grin plastered on her face. She was flushed with adrenaline and excitement. He let go of Clarke’s hand to catch her.

 

“I did it, Bell!” She all but screamed at him over the din of the applause. “I did it!”

 

“You were amazing!” He spoke into her ear. “Better than I could ever be.”

 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, big brother,” She told him seriously, pulling back from the hug. “You’re going to go out there and you’re going to give me a run for my money.”

 

The MC on stage was setting up for Acapadia in the usual manner, referencing that they came from the same school and making a joke about ‘something in the water over there’. Clarke heard it every year, but the audience laughed anyway. Raven took that as a cue to gather everybody together.

 

Octavia stepped out of the way to let them huddle, preparing to wait and watch their performance in turn. Some of her group had wandered off back to their dressing room, but Lincoln, Luna and Emori were hanging around, ready to watch too.

 

“Alright delinquents,” Raven started the huddle. “We’ve been preparing for this for a long time. We’re ready, we know we are. We trust each other and we love each other, ok? So let’s go out there and show this audience what they’re missing. Ready?”

 

“Ready.”

 

“Ready!”

 

“Hell yes.”

 

They crowded into a quick hug until they heard the MC announce, “And now, another group from Ark High, please welcome to the stage, Acapadia!”

 

And then they were moving into formation and walking together out onto stage, and the audience materialised in front of them, cheering them on.

 

The auditorium here wasn’t huge, but it was larger than their one back at home, and it was mostly full.

 

The lights were dazzling, but that helped.

 

Clarke made herself focus on _them_ , on her ragtag family of acapella-loving nerds, and tried not to let the crowd flare up her nerves. She caught Monty steadying a hand on Miller’s shoulder as they lined up side-by-side, she saw Raven wink at her as she passed to take up her own position, and she caught Bellamy’s bewildered stare as he took in the full-force of show business for the first time. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

 

_They all had each other’s backs._

 

They took up their positions in a semi-circle on stage, with Clarke in the centre and Raven and Bellamy at either end.

 

For a moment, there was only silence as the audience held their breaths and their group steadied their own.

 

Then Clarke cued them and they were beginning the opening musical bars to Breathe, led by Bellamy.

 

Raven was on pitch, her voice floated through the auditorium like a breeze, and their timings were spot-on. By the end of the song, Clarke was proud of their vocals and that their choreography had led them to the right positions for the start of Grease Lightning.

 

As usual, there was a ripple of a murmuring as the audience came to recognise the popular song, and it helped bolster the mood.

 

If Murphy’s introduction vocals hadn’t won them over, they were certainly on their side by the time Miller’s beatboxing kicked in. Harper met all her choreography cues for backflips, and all in all the song went down a treat. Clarke noticed Bellamy get turned around a few times, and Murphy and Raven collide briefly, but otherwise it was pain-free and _fun_.

 

They’d decided to slow down the tempo gradually at the end of the song, and start You Will Be Found after the applause break. They only had a spare four minutes left, so they had to push on past the spattering of clapping and begin the song quickly. Going over time meant a heavy penalty, and it wasn’t ever a price worth paying.

 

They started with a low humming from Clarke, Bellamy, Murphy and Jasper, and then Monty came in with the opening lyrics in a tone so gentle Clarke had goosebumps.

 

The audience were enraptured.

 

Eventually Harper joined him to create a harmony, and then they were all harmonising the chorus.

 

As Monty sang the last line the lights went down and the audience broke out into enthusiastic applause.

 

All eight of them collided into a violent eight-person hug, centred around a faux-grumpy Murphy, full of excitement and relief.

 

“We did it!”

 

“Best performance yet!”

 

Clarke noticed the MC trying to usher them offstage so she quickly ordered them into a neat bow, and then helped to rush them all off to the wings, where Octavia, Lincoln, Luna and Emori were waiting for them with smiles upon their faces.

 

Octavia was grinning so widely Clarke could see her gums.

 

“Don’t ever let me say I’m a better performer than you,” She teased her brother.

 

He was suitably surprised by her words of encouragement, but clearly pleased by the praise.

 

* * *

 

 

All in all, they didn’t have to wait long for the judges to make their decision. They had been two of the last groups to perform, so they milled about in their dressing room for another twenty minutes, reliving all the little moments on stage and laughing about certain moments of audience reactions. Eventually, they received the call to come to stage.

 

They stood next to the Ground Sound downstage left as the latter were announced as forwarders to regionals. Lincoln picked Octavia up off her feet and swung her around in sheer joy; Murphy gave Emori a hug, which Clarke clocked immediately and filed away for future intel; even Echo cracked a smile and exchanged excited words with Luna and Nyko.

 

Then the auditorium descended back into deafening silence.

 

Three groups would be forwarded to regionals.

 

When the MC announced a twenty-person acapella group from the a nearby school, Clarke and Raven exchanged a nervous glance. Raven took her hand and they tried to steady each other. If they weren’t called next, they wouldn’t be advancing and their season was over.

 

It felt like Clarke hand time to run through every possibility in her mind in the next silence, but also before she knew it, the MC was calling their name, and Raven was hugging her.

 

As soon as Raven let her go to turn and hug Harper, Clarke was turned round and suddenly Bellamy was hugging her as tightly as he could.

 

“Regionals, Clarke!” He called to her excitedly over the din. “Regionals!”

 

She couldn't stop smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think, I live for feedback during the hiatus.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweats nervously because I haven't finished writing anything past chapter 5 yet*
> 
> Hi again! Thanks so much to those of you who left kudos, and especially to those of you who left comments! Without you I wouldn't know if anybody was actually reading this, so thank you thank you thank you.
> 
> This chapter is slightly longer than the previous ones, I cut out a bit at the end and moved it to the beginning of the next chapter.

As the days after sectionals turned into weeks, they worked hard on their set list around classes.  Their feedback had hinted that Grease Lightning wasn’t “appropriate” at a high school level competition due to its "mature lyrics", so they’d considered cutting it, despite the fact that nobody in the audience had seemed bothered by it.

 

Eventually, they’d decided that it was a classic song and that, at least, should give it a free pass. So they kept the song.

 

Rehearsals were getting harder and harder as classes progressed and pop quizzes and papers became more and more frequent. By late November, it was cold, raining hard continuously, and always seemed to be dark outside. Their spirits were low, and their motivation to rehearse was waning.

 

Around the time they'd gone to sectionals, Clarke had begun to walk to school more mornings with Bellamy and Octavia, instead of taking a lift in with Raven in her jeep. By the time winter had officially set in, she was walking to and from school almost every day with the Blakes. Eventually, Octavia began to take a ride in with Lincoln or Echo, so it was just her and Bellamy.

 

They used the mornings to compare notes on their shared classes (and even the ones they didn't share), discuss what papers they still needed to write, complain to each other about the pressure of making a decision on their chosen career paths or college choices, and generally tell each other all the things that they hadn't got around to mentioning in their almost-continuous evening text chains.

 

Somehow, the walk was never long enough and Clarke always found herself with more to say to him and more to listen to when the bell went for first period.

 

In contrast, before rehearsals on the weekend she usually got a ride to the auditorium with her mum as Abby headed into town for Saturday morning surgeries.

 

This morning, she was in a particularly bad mood as Abby had confronted her, yet again, with pressure to choose medical school over art classes at college.

 

And so, more than half an hour after they'd all arrived, she hadn't bothered to cut their conversations short and convince them to focus. They had made no progress, nor even rehearsed a single song even without choreography. She wasn't the only one unmotivated that morning - Raven had been up all night writing a chemistry paper, Miller and Monty and Jasper had been to a late night cinema screening and as a result had gotten little sleep, Bellamy was ill so he was mostly curled up in a ball trying not to feel any worse. Even Harper was subdued, stressed by balancing all of her other social club commitments with acapella and school work.

 

They found themselves all sitting on the floor of the stage in the auditorium, complaining about how exhausted they were and how frustrating repeating the same songs over and over again was.

 

Clarke didn’t have the heart to tell them off, nor could she find it within herself to give them an emotional pep talk. It had become obvious very early into the year that Bellamy was much better at that sort of thing, but because he was currently nursing a terrible cold and a sore throat, he wasn’t saying much of anything at all.

 

“Can’t we just wing regionals?” Miller groaned.

 

“I’m exhausted,” Harper agreed.

 

“If I never have to hear the opening speech to _‘Grease Lightning’_ again, I’d die happily,” Murphy drawled from his spot lounging underneath the piano.

 

Suddenly, Jasper bolted to his feet. He'd clearly decided to act.

 

“Come on, guys!” He said loudly and enthusiastically, drawing their attention. Clarke wasn’t sure where he got the energy from. “We’re all sitting here, ready to rehearse, and you just want to waste time complaining about it?”

 

There was a slight pause, then they all let out various groans of agreement.

 

They wanted to complain, and nothing would stop them.

 

“That’s not good enough,” Jasper complained. “Ok, right...”

 

And then he wandered off into the wings, crashing about spectacularly, and came back with the weirdest assortment of props Clarke had seen all year.

 

A clock, a wizards cloak from last year’s drama club’s ambitious production of the _Lord of the Rings,_ and an incomplete dress from this year’s production of _Cinderella_ on a seamstresses mannequin.

 

“Jasper, what-“

 

“Shh, I’m going to rejuvenate you all,” he told them cryptically as he set up the props around the stage.

 

And then he gestured to Monty, whose eyes widened in understanding and who pulled himself to his feet to take a seat at the piano.

 

And suddenly, the opening bars to The Schmuel Song from the Last Five Years were filling the auditorium, and Jasper was reciting the weirdest song Clarke had ever heard.

 

_"First a story, a little Christmas story... I call it, 'The Story of Schmuel', the tailor of Klimovich..."_

She exchanged a baffled look with Bellamy, who she presumed  _must_ have known the song but whose brain just wasn't working fast enough yet.

 

_"And the clock said, 'nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, oh Schmuel, you'll get to be happy'..."_

 

He bounded around the stage, moving and playing with the props, sometimes using Harper or Raven or Murphy as interacting characters.

 

Clarke was pleased to see that they all had the same bewildered expressions on their faces (except Monty, who - as usual - understood Jasper’s brain better than the rest of them, and who was miming along as he accompanied Jasper’s show).

 

As he jumped around and interacted with them all, they began to laugh and move. Harper got up to dance around them, Monty moved from hiding underneath the piano and climbed to his feet, Clarke couldn't contain her amused grin and couldn't take her eyes off of Jasper.

 

 _"_ _And Schmuel cried, through a rush of tears--_ "

 

Monty and Harper joined him to yell, " _'Take me back, take me back all forty-one years!"_

 

By the end of the song, he had them all laughing so much that their stomachs hurt; Murphy looked the most puzzled out of them all, but even he was laughing.

 

Needless to say, after that, they all had the motivation and energy to rehearse.

 

* * *

 

 

The momentum carried them through the rest of the week, but by the time winter vacation finally came around, the entire group was ready for a break.

 

Clarke knew the importance of resting their voices, so on the last Friday before Christmas, she took them all out for a meal instead of hosting rehearsals the next day. Octavia tagged along, much to the annoyance of some of the members of her own group.

 

Just as Clarke had predicted, her and Raven took to each other immediately.

 

“Just because you _say_ you’re all for inclusivity,” they were agreeing animatedly on the walk back from the restaurant. “Doesn’t mean you—“

 

“-you actually _are_ all for it, exactly!”

 

Clarke and Bellamy strolled behind them, listening in and sharing looks.

 

Ahead of them, Monty and Miller walked closely side by side, with Harper animatedly telling them a story and acting it out despite the mittens over her hands.

 

Bellamy leaned in close, placing a hand on Clarke's lower back as he did so, and whispered in a faux-hushed tone. “Do you think they were twins in a past life?”

 

Clarke raised her eyebrows. “Oh, definitely.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Two of me would be a gift to the world,” Raven point out.

 

“Better than two Bellamy’s,” Octavia joked.

 

“I think Clarke had a dream about that,” Murphy smirked at them as he bounded past them and out of arms reach.

 

“Very funny, Murphy,” she glared at him.

 

“Careful, Murphy,” Raven said. “Rule number one: don’t piss off the person in charge of rooming for regionals. At this rate I wouldn’t be surprised if you were sleeping on the minibus.”

 

He shrugged. “You _do_ know my girlfriend is competing too, right? I could just room with her.”

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

“Your _what_?”

 

“Now _that_ I have to see to believe,” Miller joked as their conversation caught the attention of him, Monty and Harper. “You have a girlfriend?”

 

They were mocking him, but they were also genuinely surprised.

 

Octavia, on the other hand, was nodding in understanding. Clarke was not particularly shocked either.

 

“Emori, right?” She asked Murphy. He gestured with a sarcastic hand movement towards Octavia, as if to say ' _see, it's the truth'._  “She’s in my acapella group,” Octavia caught them all up.

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jasper made a violent hand gesture to calm them all down and grab their attention. They all came to a stop on the side of the pavement as he did. “Let me get this straight, not only does Murphy have a girlfriend that none of us knew about, but said girlfriend is one of our arch enemy?”

 

“Shut up, Jasper,” Murphy shoved him slightly, seeming in part genuinely embarrassed for all the attention he was receiving. “Emori’s cool. And besides, you never give Bellamy stick for having a sister for a Grounder!”

 

Raven pointed sharply at Murphy in agreement. “I hate to say it, but Murphy’s right. You don’t do it to me for being friends with Luna either.”

 

“You’re friends with _Luna_?!”

 

“She’s in shop with me,” Raven mentioned nonchalantly, then added with a straight-face, “She’s a badass, I think I’m in love with her.”

 

“Bellamy’s tutoring Lincoln Woods in Latin,” Clarke pointed out too.

 

Bellamy was only slightly affronted that he was being brought back into it. He ruffled Clarke's hair in retaliation.

 

Jasper looked positively shocked, although Clarke knew that most of it was just for show.

 

“Luna’s brother Helios is in the LGBT+ society with me and Monty,” Miller added.

 

“And Clarke’s lab partners with Nyko in AP Chemistry,” Bellamy piped up, smirking as she glared at him halfheartedly.

 

Jasper spluttered for a moment.

 

“So… so… Harper and I are the only ones not to go to the dark side?” He asked melodramatically.

 

Harper looked partly sorry for him and partly unconcerned as she informed him, “Actually, Octavia and I go to mixed martial arts with Echo, so technically….”

 

“Bah!” Jasper threw his hands up. “Traitors, every one of you!”

 

He pretended to storm off as they laughed at his antics.

 

They followed him on down the main road of the high street until they reached a corner which led to a series of cul-de-sac’s where Jasper, Harper and Miller all lived. They said their goodbyes, their ‘Happy Holidays', and disappeared into the night together.

 

As Clarke and the others continued on further south of town, Murphy piped up, “So, if Jasper’s having a meltdown, does that mean I can have his room at regionals?”

 

Clarke laughed. “I’ll tell you what, Murphy. I’ll put you and Jasper in the same room, and you can see which of you drives the other crazy first.”

 

“My money’s on Murphy,” Raven grinned.

 

“I’ve gotta have Jasper’s back,” Monty disagreed, and they shook on the bet.

 

Murphy didn’t even look offended.

 

“Wait,” Bellamy asked genuinely. “So, for regionals we get to go to the state capital overnight and run rampant in a hotel with a hundred other teenage acapella enthusiasts, and the school just… pays for it?”

 

They all hesitated for a moment, considering.

 

“That about sums it up.”

 

“Except the expenses are paid by the Board of the Faculty of Arts, which is, like, seventy-five-percent donations from Clarke’s mum, so…” Monty clarified.

 

“So your mum is basically funding us all a weekend away?” Octavia asked, incredulous.

 

“You can thank last year’s students,” Clarke tried to keep her voice from sounding too embarrassed or from the others thinking of her as a spoilt, rich girl. “The better they do, the more likely the Board is to fund us the year after. That’s it. It’s a reasonable demand.”

 

“Still…” Octavia made a face. “Not too shabby.”

 

“She just does it so that it looks like she’s interested in what I'm doing,” Clarke clarified, more bitterly than she intended.

 

There was a brief awkward silence where she presumed none of them knew what to say, but then Monty and Raven were starting up an awkward conversation about travel plans for their winter vacation.

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy whispered gently as the others moved off ahead. “I’m sure your mum is interested. You’re her only daughter and acapella is basically your whole life, maybe she’s just trying to get to know you a little better.”

 

Clarke appreciated the sentiment, but she disagreed.

 

“Come on,” she looped her arm through his in an obvious hint that she didn't want to talk about it, and she promptly changed the subject. “I’ve _got_ to show you this Christmas tree near my house before I leave for New Hampshire.”

 

Bellamy couldn’t hide the pleased look on his face that she had directed her words at him and seemed wholly unconcerned whether the others followed or not.

 

He ignored Octavia and Raven’s pointed smirks as Clarke led him ahead of them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke and her mum had travelled up to New Hampshire to visit family over the Christmas break. It was nice to have a change of scenery, and she enjoyed spending time with one of her cousins, but overall the visit was followed by an air of awkwardness that wouldn’t budge.

 

Two days before Christmas she’d received an email containing the PDF feedback from the judges at Sectionals. She hadn’t opened it, but it had played on her mind all vacation. By the time their car had pulled up at their drive the day after New Years, she had five pages of possible criticisms noted down and had run over her memories of the performance so many times she had begun dreaming about it. She was beyond ready to move on and start on Regionals.

 

She’d texted the group constantly over the break - their group chat hadn’t gone more than an hour every day without someone updating them all on some crazy happenstance or ridiculous story that had been told by an older relative.

 

She’d texted Raven and Monty a lot independently, but mostly, she’d texted Bellamy.

 

At one point Octavia had texted her to ask her to stop hogging all of his attention.

 

On their second day back in Arkadia, her mother had left for a black tie dinner - Clarke had claimed a headache and a bad stomach ache, but as soon as the car had disappeared down the drive, she’d texted the others to come over.

 

It wasn’t that she disliked her mum so much that she didn’t even want her to meet her friends, it was just that Abby Griffin wanted only the best for her daughter, and acapella didn’t factor into that dream. Clarke knew her mother wouldn’t be able to hide her dislike of the way the group spent their time, and she really didn’t want to argue about it.

 

Bellamy texted her when he was a few minutes away to let her know he was almost there. It meant that he would be the first to arrive.

 

She was glad, because she was yet to have given him his christmas present, so it afforded them a few minutes together just them two without it _seeming_ like she had _wanted_ to be alone with him.

 

Which seemed oddly complicated, but she didn’t have time to think about that.

 

She knew that she was feeling things for Bellamy Blake that she didn't feel for her other friends, and she knew that she needed to  _tell_ him. She was fairly certain he felt the same way, but without a catalyst to provoke one of them into bringing it up, they were stuck in a strange middle-ground. They weren't dating, but they certainly weren't  _not_ together.

 

Her present to him was the catalyst.

 

She let him into their hallway and made him promise to stay exactly there until she'd raced upstairs to fetch his neatly wrapped present.

 

She’d found an edition of Pliny’s ‘ _Letters_ ’ that was in the original text (not translated, which he liked to complain about) and contained certain letters he’d been harping on about being unable to find for a few weeks, so she’d bought it on impulse.

 

It was only when he was in the process of actually opening the present that she realised it was perhaps a little too _..._ _knowing_.

 

His eyes went wide as the wrapping paper fell away and he realised what it was, and then he was pulling her by one arm into a deep hug, burying his face into her hair and whispering ‘ _thank you_ ’ so earnestly she honestly may have teared up a little.

 

She pulled her arms around him, comforted and surprised by how sturdy he was - he’d become a reassuring constant in her life and she didn't want to ever go back to not having him by her side.

 

_What if she told him how she felt and he pushed her away?_

 

She didn't have enough time to spiral down that rabbit hole, because he was letting her go and awkwardly handing her her own present.

 

“I, er, don’t know if you’d use it, or even like it, to be honest, but I just thought…”

 

By the time she’d opened the wrapping paper, he was still trying to stammer out his sentence, so he just trailed off and waited anxiously for her reaction.

 

It was an old school filofax - she hadn’t seen anyone carry one of these in _years_ , but he must have noticed that she found it oddly comfortable to have things written down rather than in her phone, and now that he’d offered it, she realised it was _perfect_.

 

It also confirmed that Bellamy Blake noticed the little things about her that most other people didn't.

 

A smile smile spread across her face and it made her eyes light up.

 

_She should tell him._

 

She looked up at him, at where he stood in her empty hallway, nervous, and simply said, “Bellamy, it’s… _thank you_.”

 

She leaned forwards, reached up on her tiptoes, balancing herself with one hand gently on his shoulder, and placed a kiss to his cheek.

 

Or, she meant to.

 

Maybe.

 

He was surprised at her affection - he was always the one to hold back and she was usually the one to initiate any kind of physical intimacy between them. In his confusion, he seemed to react instinctively, turning his head to follow her movements.

 

Her lips moved softly, catching the edge of his own.

 

It was sloppy, nowhere near a _real_ kiss, as such - they could have awkwardly ignored it and pretended it never happened - but it ignited something in her that she didn't want to hide anymore.

 

They both froze for half a beat, staring at each other in the silent hallway.

 

But when his deep voice whispered “ _Clarke_ ’” into the silence and echoed off the walls, half as a question and half as a plea, they moved at the same time.

 

His lips found hers before her hands even reached his face. His hands went around her to firmly pull her to him, and he was forced to take a step back towards the wall by the force of her movement.

 

Everything about Bellamy Blake was relaxed and careful, but the way he kissed her was not.

 

His lips moved steadily but hungrily, and his hands, initially soft around her waist, moved to grasp either side of her hips and pull her towards him as he took one last step back so that he was flush against the wall.

 

Clarke’s body weight helped him the last part and pushed him against it, her hands going from gently cupping his cheeks to touching any part of him she could. She settled for his stomach as her hands found their way under his shirt and rested upon his chest.

 

She couldn’t get enough, of his lips, his hands, the sound of his breath, the feel of his warmth—

 

-and then the headlights to Raven’s truck filtered in through the frosted glass besides the front door, and they broke apart.

 

She stayed in his arms, their bodies still intertwined, for a long moment, foreheads touching and breath mingling as they slowed their heart rates.

 

When they heard the sound of multiple footsteps making their way across the gravel on the drive, they finally stepped away from each other.

 

Clarke went to open the door as Bellamy picked up their presents, forgotten on the floor.

 

“--can’t tell you how glad I am to see your beautiful faces,” Raven was talking before the door was even halfway open.

 

“We missed you too, Raven,” Bellamy supplied, coming to stand beside Clarke as she let Raven, Miller and Monty into the house. The latter two were holding hands.

 

Bellamy’s lips twitched into a soft and tentative smile.

 

“Monty…” Clarke asked slowly as she eyed their intertwined hands, a smile playing at her own lips.

 

Monty blushed and Miller grinned and squeezed his hand and that was as much confirmation as they needed.

 

Before they could begin asking any questions or start any catching up, the others were making their way up the driveway, yelling ' _hellos_ ' and squabbling over who got to tell a vacation story first.

 

Clarke ushered them into the living room, then went to get drinks and snacks whilst they excitedly chattered over one another.

 

As the sound of their mixed conversations filtered into the kitchen, she heard the door swing open and closed, and then a soft but firm hand was on her waist and Bellamy’s body was pressing gently against hers.

 

“Clarke,” he began carefully. “We should—“

 

She spun slowly on the spot so that their faces were only an inch apart. “We don’t need to talk about it, Bellamy. We know what that was, and I’m not sorry for it.”

 

He blinked once, holding her gaze for a long moment, evidently trying to read her face. Finally, he came to some sort of decision within his internal struggle.

 

“Neither am I,” he finally said, but he pulled back, moving his hands off of her waist so that they were no longer touching.

 

Clarke didn’t know whether this meant something long-term, or just some fleeting feelings, but she knew she felt cold without him touching her, so she trailed her hands down his upper arms until her hands were intertwined with his own, then guided them back to her hips.

 

“You don’t have to be sorry for touching me, Bellamy,” she told him clearly, but in a low voice so that the others in the other room did not overhear. “If you want to kiss me, I _want_ you to. And not just right now, not just today.”

 

He held her gaze for another long moment, then slowly ducked his head, inch by inch, until his lips ghosted over her own. It was longingly tender, just a hint of a kiss.

 

He rested his forehead against her own, brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, and said in a low, husky voice, “Let’s go and catch up with our friends.”

 

She nodded, and they took the glasses and snacks back into the other room, the others none the wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are happening! As always, let me know your thoughts, either here on AO3 or on Tumblr where I'm kykru.
> 
> A/N: I absolutely LOVE when people have been messaging me to compare notes on which delinquent would sing which songs from different musicals. I'm so glad musicals and the 100 have a common fanbase!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a bit longer to get this out there, sorry about that - I struggled a bit with parts of it. It's longer than usual, so I hope that makes up for it somewhat!
> 
> Onwards to regionals (part 1, anyway!)

Returning to school after the break felt a little weird to Clarke. In so many ways it was exactly the same as the term before - classes, tutoring, singing lessons, rehearsals, repeat. But her relationship with Bellamy made it more complicated.

 

And - she wasn’t going to lie - more exhilarating.

 

They managed to keep what was going on between them a secret from the others.

 

Considering that neither of them was particularly sure _what_ was happening between the two of them, it made it that much easier to not tell anybody. Clarke supposed that none of their friends had noticed because their relationship was mostly the same as before - full of sexual tension, awkward flirting, and commandeering ninety percent of each other’s time.

 

It was just that between classes, in gaps before they had to meet their friends for lunch, or in clandestine meetings before and after school, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

 

Most of the time they met, it was at the bottom of a hardly-used stairwell tucked behind the history classrooms, but sometimes Clarke would skip gym class (“I always fake cramps anyway, Mr Farnham just lets me off by default now”) or Bellamy would skip economics (“Why do I need some middle-class adult who thinks they know everything to tell me the theory of balancing books when I’ve been doing that for years already?”). It gave them some time together, just the two of them, outside of homework and acapella.

 

Two weeks before Regionals, Clarke and Bellamy were in the auditorium waiting for the others to arrive for rehearsals on the Saturday morning. It was 7.45am, much too early for any of the others to make an appearance - Bellamy had been coming in early since before Christmas - and they were flirting by the piano.

 

Well, officially Clarke was trying out pitches and Bellamy was holding up the sheet music for her, but that had quickly descended into making out whilst Clarke sat atop the piano and Bellamy stood between her legs.

 

She had her hands in his hair, ruffling it over and over again and pulling him tighter towards her - a new pastime she’d discovered they both enjoyed recently - when they were interrupted rather rudely by Murphy.

 

“Oh god,” Murphy drawled. “I could really have survived not seeing that.”

 

He’d used the backstage entrance, so neither Clarke or Bellamy had heard him coming. They were both flushed; Bellamy’s hair was a mess, strands falling into his eyes.

 

Bellamy stepped back as she put her legs down, straightening her skirt, and jumped down from the piano.

 

“Murphy!” Clarke tried to steady her voice. “Good morning.”

 

“And I see it’s a good morning for you too,” He deadpanned, heading past them downstage and dropping down the few feet until he was in the front row of stalls.

 

Bellamy glared at him.

 

“You’re not…” Clarke began, but he beat her to it.

 

“Relax, Clarke,” Murphy shot them both a glance as he put his bag down and took off his coat. “I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s none of their business… hell, it’s none of _my_ business.”

 

She paused, then nodded a small smile for him in thanks. She placed a hand subconsciously on Bellamy’s arm.

 

“But—“ Murphy added quickly. “If you’re going to keep making out at rehearsals, you can at least do it somewhere I don’t have to see it.”

 

“Trust me,” Bellamy grumbled. “We’re all in agreement on that.”

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke had been more confident on their song choices last year heading into regionals, but their voices were beautiful together and their sound was exactly what she’d been aiming for at the beginning of the year. They’d even surpassed her intentions, if she was being honest - their choreography was smoother than she’d imagined and their harmonies always on pitch.

 

Mostly, she was proud of all they’d achieved so far, and of how much of a family they’d become to one another over the years.

 

With this in mind, their spirits were high by the time the weekend of regionals came around.

 

The frost and chill of winter had begun to thaw, and the spring air was light in the early morning when Clarke and Raven left town. It was April and the sun was shining - Raven took that as a good omen; Clarke couldn’t quite allow herself to agree, despite how hopeful she secretly was.

 

They picked up Miller and Monty along the way, and drove the six hours to the state capital with music blasting and snacks galore.

 

They’d exhausted almost every topic of conversation, or so it felt like, but still they managed to wile away the time so much so that it felt like they’d hardly been on the road two hours, let alone six.

 

Monty was still talking about how adorable a couple Murphy and Emori made when they finally pulled up at the hotel that was hosting the competition.

 

Sixteen schools from across the district were due to perform, and almost all of them were staying at the same large chain hotel.

 

The main lobby was bustling with commotion.

 

Clarke wandered over to the check in desk whilst Raven, Monty and Miller tried to haul their luggage someplace relatively out of the way. One of the largest acapella groups from their state, United Acapella, were milling around the lobby. Their matching yellow jackets denoted that they were of the same group, but it was their loud voices that really told Clarke who they were. They were infamous on the circuit for always pulling pranks on each other, their roaring laughter frequently cut over any other noise backstage.

 

Their leader was a tall girl, over 6 feet with an easy beauty that rendered her unmissable in a crowd. As Clarke side-stepped around her, she motioned with a hand to quieten them all down to hand out their keys.

 

Clarke had met her at a party last year and they'd begun chatting fairly early into the night - she had a mother on Broadway and an insane number of connections. But she had made it this far with her group of her own accord, that much was clear. She was dedicated, focused, and determined.

 

Clarke admired Anya.

 

The other members of her group quietened down to listen to her with minimal fuss.

 

She waved casually at Clarke as she walked past. Clarke smiled back in recognition.

 

When Clarke finally navigated the minefield of acapella students and finally reached the desk, Mr Kane was already waiting, talking casually to a middle aged man in an impeccably kept uniform of black and silver.

 

She could see why Abby liked Kane - if Clarke was being completely honest, she liked him too. He always treated her like an adult, listened to both sides of an argument, and could talk so easily to so many people on such varied topics, she was usually left admiring his natural social skills at dinner parties. He had agreed to be the chaperone for both Ark High groups whilst they stayed out of town - Clarke wasn't sure if it was just an extension of his ridiculous enthusiasm for any and all student clubs (he was well known to offer to chaperone half of them if it meant students were engaging with subjects outside of the curriculum) or if it was because he wanted to get to know _her_ better.

 

Either way, she didn't mind, so long as it meant that the school board would allow them to go to sectionals.

 

It was always strange to see a teacher out of their smart attire, but ever since he'd started dating her mum she'd seen him outside of school a few times - some meals out, once to see a movie, twice on a run in their local park.

 

The hotel receptionist handed over the room keys to her and gave her the ground rules - the usual: rooms are only for same-sex students, no parties, lights out at 10pm, etc.

 

Clarke nodded as if she was listening diligently, but she knew the others wouldn't obey even if she told them repeatedly until she was blue in the face.

 

Her, Raven and Harper were in a three-person room, with a single pull-out bed made up to accommodate the third. Monty and Jasper were across the hall, but Miller and Murphy had been allocated a room at the far end of the corridor on the floor above.

 

Clarke knew that Bellamy and Octavia had been given dispensation to share a room, and Kane had informed her that they had already arrived.

 

They were staying along the corridor one floor above too, so once she'd claimed a bed as her own (the sofa bed, Raven had taken one of the comfortable beds because she frequently slept badly with her leg and Clarke had let Harper have the other one so that the rookie could fully enjoy her first regionals away), she'd gone off in search of them.

 

She located the correct door number, and knocked, her mind on all the last minute rehearsals they needed to run through and not on what was going on in front of her.

 

When the door opened, Octavia stood in the foreground, comfy bathrobe slung over her day clothes.

 

"Hey Clarke!" She greeted her happily.

 

At her name, there was a loud bang in the en suite bathroom to the right and then Bellamy appeared.

 

He was in the middle of changing his shirt, so she caught more than a good view of his abs before he pulled the new shirt down.

 

She knew Octavia had clocked her staring, and was probably silently laughing at her, but she couldn't _not_ look.

 

He still had his glasses on, and a book in one hand. He was nailing the hot librarian look and she was into it.

 

She wished in that moment that Octavia was not there, but she was also glad because it prevented her from allowing herself to be distracted from the reason they were here in the first place.

 

It was not worth losing focus.

 

She _had_ to get to the ICCAs this year. They all did.

 

"You're early," he opened with. "I thought you and Raven would get lost at least twice."

 

She pulled herself out of her trance to glare at him.

 

"I'm a great navigator, I'll have you know,” she shot back as Octavia stepped aside and let her into the room.

 

"Bellamy got lost," Octavia piped up as her brother followed them back into the room and sat down on his bed.

 

Bellamy spared his sister a mildly annoyed look for a moment. Clarke could practically hear him saying _“O, please”_.

 

"Who's here?" He changed the subject, directing his words towards Clarke as she came to lean against the wall near him. "I heard Jasper all the way from the elevator to the lobby."

 

Clarke smiled. "Raven and I checked everyone in, we made sure that we're all here now… I was thinking we could use one of the conference rooms to run over a couple of awkward spots before tomorrow’s competition.”

 

Octavia rolled her eyes, making sure Clarke could see it.

 

"Do you ever stop?" She asked, exasperated (and maybe a little in awe).

 

“Only when she’s sleeping,” Bellamy joked, then asked more seriously, "The second verse of Breathe?"

 

Sometimes it was scary how well Bellamy could read her mind.

 

She nodded.

 

"And the choreography at the end of Grease Lightning. Jasper and Monty were a little sloppy there at sectionals.”

 

"If anybody was letting us down in choreography, it was me," Bellamy pointed out, half joking and half serious.

 

"You're much better," Clarke defended. "You've put in a lot of effort with extra rehearsals with Harper and the audience will definitely see that."

 

He considered that for a moment, then nodded like he almost believed her.

 

"Come on," Clarke leaned over to gently tap him on the side of the arm. She pushed off the wall and started to head towards the door. "Let's see if we can round them up.”

 

They called goodbye to Octavia and wandered back down to the floor below. Students from all over the state were bounding along the corridor, hauling luggage bags and formal wear on hangers behind them.

 

They found the rest of Acapadia all crowded into Clarke’s room, lounging across the beds and - in the case of Jasper and Harper - jumping between them like five year olds.

 

There must have been something in their expressions or the way they walked in with purpose, because as soon as they caught sight of Clarke and Bellamy stood side-by-side in the doorway, Raven sat upright, Monty looked deflated, and Murphy flopped back onto the sofa bed with a quiet “here we go”.

 

“Don’t say what I think you’re going to say,” Raven beat them to it.

 

Clarke and Bellamy exchanged a weary but determined glance.

 

“What?” Harper came to a stop as she finished a jump, looking between the three of them.

 

“Clarke’s going to say the ‘R’ word,” Miller spoiled for her.

 

“The—“

 

“Last minute rehearsals,” Clarke said.

 

They all groaned.

 

In the end, with a little coaxing from Bellamy and a rather good speech about how they’d “ _put in so much hard work and enthusiasm, they couldn’t give up now, not when they were so close”,_ the delinquents changed their mind and agreed to an hour of rehearsals, so long as they were _only_ for choreography and blocking - no singing - and with the intention that they celebrate afterwards in their traditional style -

 

“Karaoke!” Raven grinned. Murphy and Miller fist bumped each other, trying not too look too excited. Jasper and Monty began waltzing around the room to comic effect.

 

“Alright, alright,” Bellamy tried to organise them.

 

“ _After_ rehearsals,” Clarke agreed. “First, we need to get to work.”

 

They found an empty conference room on the ground floor, begged with the young member of staff on the front desk to let them use it for an hour, and got to work.

 

Bellamy and Jasper were still a little unsteady on their feet, and the tempo for parts of _Breathe_ was off slightly, but overall their rehearsals went well. Their last run through was the best yet, so they finished quite happy about taking to the stage in the competition tomorrow.

 

The one thing bothering them was the tone of their set - Grease Lightning was a fun, up-tempo piece, but it cut sharply between two emotional songs, giving them - and no doubt the audience, too - whiplash.

 

“We could move it?” Harper suggested as they all grabbed some water at the end of their rehearsal.

 

“To where?”

 

“It’d be such a decline in pace if we put it at the beginning,” Clarke had to point out.

 

“And at the end it’d be, well—“

 

“—out of place?”

 

“—pointless?”

 

“Yes to all the above,” Miller conceded.

 

“For now, there’s not much we can do about it,” Clarke sighed.

 

“Short of rearranging our entire set or learning a new song,” Bellamy continued for her. “So we might as well commit to it one-hundred-percent.”

 

“We can revisit it when we pass regionals,” Clarke agreed.

 

“I _f_ we pass regionals,” Murphy pointed out quietly.

 

Nobody commented.

 

This was the second time they’d been forced to acknowledge that Grease Lightning was a thorn in their side, and as much as they liked it, they’d probably need to have a serious conversation about reconsidering it if they made it to Nationals in New York. As for the competition the next day, they just needed to get through it without being relegated to the middle-zone of the scoreboard.

 

* * *

 

 

They had a quick dinner - takeaway pizzas in Monty and Jasper’s room - then changed and headed down to the hotel lounge.

 

Tonight, it had been repurposed to host the multitude of students staying for the competition. A huge screen had been placed as a backdrop to the small stage, and a high-end sound system installed for their entertainment.

 

Clarke had left her cardigan in her room, and realised just as they were descending down the first floor in the elevator.

 

“I’ll meet you all down there,” She said, stepping forward as the doors opened onto the floor below theirs. “I’ll take the next one up, save me a seat.”

 

“Want me to come with you?” Harper asked kindly.

 

She shook her head. “No, that’s ok, I won’t be long.”

 

Bellamy, who had been standing closest to the doors and who had to move for a middle-aged couple to enter the elevator took a step forwards too.

 

“I don’t mind a bit of a walk,” He said casually. “This lift is getting a bit full.”

 

The others nodded and waved goodbye, hardly fazed - they were used to her and Bellamy being joined at the hip by this point - as the doors shut and they were left alone on the seventh floor.

 

Clarke rolled her eyes at Bellamy and tried not to let her smile fight its way through as she said, “Very subtle, Bellamy.”

 

He smirked and shrugged his shoulders as they waited for the next elevator to take them up. His fingers reached across, slowly and tentatively, to take her hand in his.

 

Needless to say, they were delayed for fifteen minutes whilst they decidedly did _not_ search for her cardigan.

 

By the time they’d got in the elevator to head back down together, they’d still been unable to keep their hands off each other again. There was something about being out of town and seeing Bellamy so relaxed that made Clarke itch to have her hands on him.

 

Luckily it was empty this time, affording them a few more minutes of alone time until they reached the ground floor.

 

They entered the hotel lounge, putting a distinct two feet between them but with huge grins on their faces that they weren’t doing a good job at hiding, and found the others at a table towards the front of the crowded room. They were in a perfect position to (politely) heckle the stage and to make their own way up there quickly if they wanted to.

 

The first thing Octavia said when she saw her brother was “I’ve put you down for a solo”.

 

Bellamy was, understandably, alarmed.

 

“You’re late, that’s what happens to you.”

 

“Come on, Bellamy!” Monty tried to be supportive.

 

“No use getting cold feet now,” Raven clapped him on the back.

 

Bellamy sighed good-naturedly, his lips twitching. “Fine - but _later_ , ok?”

 

They took seats around the table. Clarke wasn’t sure who was to blame, but they ended up sitting noticeably close to one another. Bellamy’s arm came round to rest on the back of her chair in a move so natural by now that the others didn’t particularly acknowledge it.

 

Clarke caught Octavia exchange a glance with Murphy, who was arriving back from the bar, but otherwise the others were oblivious.

 

He had two drinks of coke in his hand, and handed one to Emori as she moved so they could share the seat.

 

“I put you down, Miller,” He smirked.

 

“Wh— Murphy!” He glared. Then it turned into a devilish smile and Murphy looked rightfully worried. He pointed accusingly at Murphy. “If I’m going up there, you’re going to duet with me.”

 

That made Murphy splutter, and the others laughed.

 

They’d seen a bit of the karaoke year last year, but they’d been insanely nervous for the competition so they’d retired early to bed. This year, they were willing to enjoy themselves a bit more.

 

Anya and a few of her group came over to say hi during the course of the night, and they made friends with the table next door over song suggestions for one of their members who was particularly indecisive.

 

Eventually, a familiar name was called.

 

“Octavia Blake? Octavia, are you ready to come up and show us what you’ve got?”

 

She was in deep conversation with Lincoln and another guy from a rival group from the local area, but she piped up at her name. 

 

She bounded up onto stage with Raven and Luna in tow. They got a loud round of applause - all three of them had such distinct personalities that Clarke was sure the entire circuit knew at least one of them by now - and the audience only got louder when they realised they had chosen to sing The Schuyler Sisters from Hamilton.

 

Lincoln bolted onto stage to be their Burr at the last second, surprising even them, and causing the room to break out into laughter.

 

They had everyone laughing, particularly with their comedic timing and fun style as they played off each other. By the end, they had a standing ovation from the rowdy acapella students filling the lounge.

 

When they came back to retake their seats, Octavia leaned in close to talk to Lincoln, and Clarke saw Bellamy glare in their direction.

 

She chose not to say anything, but she placed a hand on his leg under the table as some comfort. She knew that he was protective of his sister, but she also knew that Octavia was her own person and she would argue back - it might be something that could implode at any moment so Clarke made a mental note to keep an eye on it.

 

By the time Clarke was zoning back in on the room as a whole, Miller’s name had been called and he was dragging Murphy with him. The latter complained the entire way up to the stage, but he was smiling and he was integral in helping to pick which song they were going to perform. In the end, they picked surprisingly quickly.

 

“Right, so this song is dedicated to my girlfriend, Emori, who is actually the best girl I could have asked for,” Murphy grumbled into the microphone, part embarrassed by his words and part uncaring what anybody else thought. “Oh, yeah, and to Miller’s boyfriend, I guess.”

 

Miller smacked him round the back of the head as the opening bars to Take Me Or Leave Me from Rent sounded through the speakers.

 

Clarke had to admit, they made a perfect stage duo.

 

Emori looked embarrassed to have so much attention indirectly put on her, but she also looked immensely proud of Murphy. Her and Monty exchanged self-conscious looks throughout the performance, but neither could stop laughing at their ridiculous boyfriends.

 

The rest of the evening continued in a similar fashion.

 

Many of the other acapella groups gave performances in the same way and Clarke was pleased that they were also sticking to the musical theatre theme. A large number of the groups were performing modern songs in their sets tomorrow, but they all had a love of musicals, and that would always unite them.

 

One of the schools which lived locally brought a group of six boys up onto stage to sing Cell Block Tango, complete with feather boas and sloppy but entertaining choreography with their chairs.

 

Another group had a soloist go up and sing a moving rendition of She Used To Be Mine from Waitress. Clarke didn’t cry, but she was pretty sure she’d see that girl on Broadway in five years time.

 

Two girls from an acapella group that Clarke hadn’t seen in a few years did a rather straight forward rendition of Defying Gravity, and another couple took on A Hard Full Of Love from Les Mis.

 

The evening was going well, everybody was enjoying themselves and Clarke felt finally relaxed for the first time in a long time, surrounded by her friends and with no thoughts of tomorrow’s nerves.

 

Then, Bellamy Blake’s name was called.

 

“Bellamy Blake? That’s another Blake, you’re not imagining things everyone. There’s two of them, let’s see if Bellamy’s as talented as his sister. Where are you Bellamy?”

 

They’d mostly all forgotten that Octavia had put her brother’s name down, so the reaction from their table was a cacophony of cheers and jeers as he grumbled and made to get to his feet. Three pairs of hands pushed him tentatively out of his seat as he did so. He sighed at them all one more time, then picked his way through the crowd to the stage.

 

“Er, hi,” He said in a low voice into the microphone once he’d taken over from the MC. The room took a moment but eventually went quiet. “My sister signed me up for this, so I’m going to sing one of my favourite songs and she can sit there and be uncomfortable knowing that this was all her fault.”

 

The room laughed. Octavia groaned dramatically and pretended to slam her head against the table. Clarke was confused.

 

“Sorry it’s going to bring the mood down a little, but… what’s karaoke without a few ballads,” he laughed. Some people cheered back. “This song is… well, it probably resonates with quiet a few of you in this room tonight. This musical was my gate-way into musical theatre, and I found it at the perfect time, so, yeah, it’s always stuck with me. There’s…” he seemed unsure whether to speak what he was thinking for a moment, then he swallowed hard and said to the room, “there’s someone special to me who, well they probably know it by now, but just in case, I want to dedicate this to them and, er…” he laughed again, “I hope you take this the right way.”

 

And then the acoustic guitar opening bars to Touch Me from Spring Awakening was playing and Clarke couldn’t breathe.

 

The lights had been dimmed, as per most performances, and it was just Bellamy on stage.

 

It felt like a lifetime before he began singing.

 

“ _Where I go, when I go there…”_

 

His voice was low and deep, his tone gentle, she couldn't stop from staring.

 

His hands gently skimming the microphone stand were a particular source of her attention.

 

“ _Only hymns upon your lips…”_

 

She was pretty sure half their table was staring at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away from him.

 

_“Touch me…”_

 

She was glad that he cut out a lot of the runs and emotional “ _ohs_ ”, because hearing Bellamy talk about _that,_ talk about her _touching him_ , was enough for her.

 

As for everybody else… the entire room was enraptured.

 

It could have been embarrassing, it could have been cheesy or awkward, but it was _theatre_ , and he had the perfect audience to appreciate the beauty of, and emotions behind, the song.

 

As the song came to a slow end, Clarke blinked herself out of the spell.

 

She pulled her chair back and forced herself to glance briefly at the table.

 

“Excuse me, I’m just going to…”

 

She excused herself awkwardly from the table without finishing her sentence.

 

She knew she drew some eyes as she headed through the crowd towards the door at the back of the room, but there was only one set of eyes she cared about, and they were currently making their way off stage and - presumably - following her.

 

As the lounge doors swung shut behind her, separating her into the cold and quiet lobby, she heard the rest of the room break out into applause and Bellamy whisper a hurried thank you.

 

Sure enough, a few seconds later, he was pushing his way through the doors she had just come through and was standing in front of her in the silent lobby.

 

She paced for a few moments. He watched.

 

When she stopped, he eyed her up warily.

 

“Clarke…” He started slowly. “I’m sorry if I—“

 

She had never been one to wait for somebody else’s lead.

 

“Bellamy, no, I—,” she shook her head. “I’m not _upset_ with you, I’m not.”

 

“Oh.”

  
More silence.

 

She considered his worried look, then took a slow step towards him.

 

“I’m…,” she furrowed her brow and let out a deep breath, “confused. I didn’t think that you would think that I… with that much…”

 

She founded around for a moment with her hands, wholly _not_ herself.

 

“I do,” he told her when she stopped trying to find words. He took a step forwards so that they were only a feet away from one another. “God, Clarke, I have for a while now.”

 

She bit her lip.

 

“I thought you knew,” He continued. “It was pretty obvious. Octavia wouldn’t stop teasing me since first rehearsals.”

 

“Honestly?” She asked. “I don’t usually expect people to… like _me_ for me. I can be a bit…”

 

“Opinionated?” He smirked.

 

She gave him a small smile. “I know that sometimes draws the attention of the wrong people, and I’m used to having people leave me whenever I finally start to… to _feel_ something for them. When I’m honest, that’s usually when things start going downhill for me.”

 

Bellamy gently cupped her cheek with one hand and brought the other around to rest lightly on the side of her neck.

 

“I’m not going anywhere, Clarke,” He told her, clearly and honestly.

 

She steadied her nerves and her lips twitched in happiness.

 

“You know they’re all going to know now, right?” She told him after a moment.

 

His trademark smirk played at his lips. “You think they didn’t already?”

 

She laughed out a short bark.

 

“You didn’t embarrass me,” she told him after a moment, stepping forwards so that she could place a hand gently on his chest. “But you did catch me off guard. So… a little warning next time?”

 

He nodded. “You got it.”

 

She leaned in to kiss him, slow and gentle.

 

“Come on,” she said. “There’s a party on floor six later, let’s go and see if Raven knows the details.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I adore Spring Awakening and nobody can convince me that Touch Me is anything other than a beautiful, classy song.
> 
> I hope you're still there and reading! A few more chapters to go, thanks again to everybody who is reading, and especially to those of you who have left kudos and comments! You're pretty much the most wonderful people ever.
> 
> If the next chapter isn't out for the next couple of days, it's because i've got a busy few days at work coming up, but I'll try to get chapter 6 up ASAP!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Your eyes don't deceive you, I have actually updated.
> 
> I know, at this rate it was looking like a miracle. Sorry about that! I've had a terrible week in so many ways, so I've struggled to get this out there, but it's here now! I hope it was worth the wait.

They didn't stay late at the party Anya's group had hosted. They'd learnt their lesson about poorly-timed hangovers from Sectionals, and they knew they'd face fiercer competition this time.

 

Instead, they met bright and early for breakfast and made use of the time to talk through the technicalities of their Grease Lightning number and double check pacing for Breathe. Mostly though, all they could do was try to reassure each other that they'd done all they could at this point.

 

The competition was due to start at 5pm, with the first group performing at 5.30 and in intervals of 15 minutes thereafter. At lunch time there had been a meeting in the lounge where the Presidents of each group had randomly drawn from a hat their performance times. Raven had picked them a slot at 7.30, which meant an agonising 2 hour wait even once the competition had started, but they only had 3 more groups behind them, and performing towards the end of the night was always better than being forgotten at the beginning.

 

At four o'clock they all met in Clarke, Raven and Harper's room to get ready together.

 

If Bellamy had thought that Sectionals was chaotic, Regionals was downright pandemonium.

 

They'd left the door to the hallway open so that the others could go back and forth easily into their own rooms to grab things, and so that the room didn't get too hot with so many bodies in such a small space, but it also meant that they couldn't block out the noise and bustle from the rest of the competition.

 

Clarke wasn't sure why, but there was something about a competition out of your home town that made everything feel so much more _urgent_.

 

Students seemed to run where at Sectionals they would have walked; they shouted things to each other urgently where at Sectionals they would have spoken calmly; mostly, there was a lot of crying and panic instead of quiet anxiety.

 

Raven was helping Harper with her hair when Bellamy arrived at half past four, already wearing his suit trousers, shirt, and blue vest, but he held his bow tie helplessly in his hand and his hair was a mess.

 

He looked completely dazzled by the chaos in the corridor.

 

"What's going on?" He asked nobody in particular as he stood in the doorway.

 

"I'd hazard a guess that somebody called in a disaster alert, if i wasn't so used to this by now," Murphy responded as he lounged along one of the beds, toying with his own, neat, bow tie.

 

Bellamy eyed it with a hint of envy.

 

"Can somebody help me with this?" Bellamy asked meekly in response to Murphy’s neat one, holding up his own unraveled bow tie. "I've tried about six times."

 

Miller was snacking by the tv, but he was quick to talk around his mouthful. “Not me."

 

"Busy," Raven mumbled through her teeth as she focused on Harper.

 

Bellamy looked at Clarke.

 

He gave her a sweet smile that was so genuine she was always powerless to resist it.

 

"Come here," she told him patiently, giving in and standing up from her position perched on the end of the bed nearest to the door.

 

She stepped up to stand in front of him, highly alert to the many eyes in the room on her, and tried to focus on the fact that doing up somebody's tie was _not romantic_.

 

_Except that it was in virtually half the rom-coms she’d seen._

 

She tried to banish that thought from her head.

 

Their height difference was noticeable at this close distance - it was something she loved about them because although she wasn't short by any means and usually she disliked looking up at somebody all the time, it was oddly reassuring to have his presence so _noticeable_.

 

She plucked the bow tie from his hands gently and reached around to lay it behind his neck.

 

They leaned in close to make the distance work, their faces merely inches from each other. As Clarke tried to concentrate on the confusing knot, he took the opportunity to glance down and shoot her a mischievous, somewhat covert, smile.

 

She caught him staring and gave him a small, flirtatious smile in return.

 

It quickly slipped from her face as, from across the room, Raven caught sight of them and declared loudly, "Can you two stop being so in love for more than five minutes, even Monty and Miller aren’t so blatant about it.”

 

The room faltered into awkward silence.

 

Thankfully, it wasn't just Clarke that turned red; Bellamy's face flushed violently.

 

They were both thrown, speechless.

 

Raven was always blunt; her brain worked at lightning speed so she didn't always have time to think before she spoke, but rarely did she say something offensive or tactless.

 

Even Murphy blanched at her use of words - he pulled an embarrassed face that belied the awkwardness of the room.

 

After a long few seconds, Clarke - who had avoided looking into anybody’s eyes, not least of all Bellamy’s - forced herself to finish tying his bow tie, took a deep breath, and turned to face her best friend.

 

"Thank you, Raven. That was really tactful," she snapped at her a little harsher than planned. She had meant to sound sarcastic and thoroughly irritated, but she hadn't meant to sound so  _mean_. Deep down, she knew Raven had simply said what she saw.

 

Raven, undeterred as ever, continued to focus on plaiting Harper's hair. She simply rolled her eyes as she argued, "What? I didn't say anything that wasn't true."

 

Clarke didn't know what to say to that.

 

They had been friends for a long time, drown together when they were young by their matching strong, stubborn personalities. Naturally, this was not the first time that they had radiated silent aggravation towards each other and let the other simmer for a while - but it _was_ the first time it had happened so determinedly in the middle of a competition.

 

Part of Clarke's brain knew that Raven was nervous, more than she wanted people to see, and that was probably the reason why she had spoken so bluntly. But another part of Clarke couldn't bring herself to forgive her friend just now. She was also nervous for the competition, but _she_ wasn’t throwing out truth bombs which would upset her friend and maybe throw the rest of them off their game.

 

And so, for now, Clarke chose to forgo arguing. She just wanted to focus on their performance for the next few hours, everything else could come after.

 

She stared resolutely at the ugly brown carpet, stepping purposefully away from Bellamy and towards the window, where she had left her possessions strewn about earlier.

 

The others lapsed back into awkward, quiet conversations: Monty was trying to get Miller to start putting his outfit on, but the latter was complaining that he had more time; Jasper was discussing the merits of double-stuff oreos with nobody in particular; Harper was grumbling to Raven about her phone being broken.

 

However, even with this all, the tension radiating off of Clarke and towards Raven was palpable.

 

Bellamy was silent.

 

Clarke knew his eyes were following her as he took a seat where she'd been sitting before, on the bed nearest to the door, and began thinking himself into a hole.

 

After a long ten minutes, Murphy checked the time and realised that they should start heading down soon, if they wanted to warm up properly and check out the competition before they went on stage.

 

"Five more minutes?" Harper asked frantically, still tying to perfect winged eyeliner on one eye.

 

Miller, who was still ironing his shirt and had yet to iron his suit trousers, looked up in alarm. "Ten minutes?" He modified.

 

Murphy rolled his eyes, clearly ready to protest, so Monty stepped in as mediator.

 

"Five minutes," he stated, giving his boyfriend an apologetic look. "Sorry, Nate."

 

As the others got to their feet and began collecting the last minute items they needed to take with them - phones, lipstick, pitch pipes, etc - Bellamy wandered through the bustle of bodies towards Clarke.

 

"Can we talk?" He asked her in a low voice.

 

"Now?" She asked with a hint of incredulousness as she frantically looked for her hairbrush.

 

Murphy and Jasper had started to usher everyone towards the door.

 

Bellamy glanced out towards the rest of the room, then back at her.

 

“I don't mean _talk_ talk,” He clarified calmly, “I just wanted to make sure we’re… you know, ok?”

 

She didn't reply right away, just carried on staring at her possessions whilst she thought about what to say.

 

As usual, Bellamy's mind was in tune with her own.

 

"Clarke," he said seriously, and with enough emotion to finally tear her eyes towards his. "We should talk about what Raven said, we should, but I’m just asking you to tell me you’re not going to push me away _because_ I want to talk about it.”

 

She met his eyes slowly.

 

“Not right now, it can wait until after the competition," She said firmly.

 

She thought that was the end of that, turning back to buckle up her shoes.

 

But then Bellamy stepped away from her, recoiling like she'd hurt him, "It can, _I_ can't."

 

"Bellamy," she meant to whisper it, but her desperation for him to understand - somehow, just for now, just to give her time - must have gotten the better of her, because Raven, Miller and Harper all glanced in their direction as his words came out louder than planned.

 

“Message received loud and clear, Clarke," he told her, and his eyes looked sad as he turned away.

 

He was always so clear, so sure. He saw everything in black and white where Clarke saw greys that needed to be sorted into one or the other. What she loved about him was that he was able to help her sort them. He was always honest, no matter what.

 

But right now, it wasn’t going in her favour.

 

"Bell-"

 

From the other side of the room, Murphy had herded most of the others outside into the corridor. "Come on, let's go. Emori's on in thirty minutes and I promised I’d catch her before."

 

He was right. The Ground Sound had picked the rather measly short straw.

 

They were to perform first.

 

If you opened well - strong and energetic - and if the audience were kind, the judges would remember you. But mostly, it was a death trap. Only once in the last seven years had a group placed at Nationals after opening Regionals.

 

Clarke knew that Bellamy was keen to watch Octavia as well, and that Raven had told Luna she'd critique her performance for her, so they filed out of the hotel room without any more complaints and down to the lobby fairly speedily.

 

They had the elevator to themselves so it was quiet, full of their silent anxiety and nervous thoughts.

 

Clarke stood between Harper and Monty as they whispered excitedly about how big the auditorium would be and how many seats it held.

 

She tried to catch Bellamy's eye.

 

He was stubborn, like her, and he resolutely ignored her gaze.

 

She knew that Raven's words had hit a nerve with him - they had with her too - but she simply didn't think talking about their relationship was appropriate right now, or necessary. He was always one to jump in, now or never, he felt his emotions fully and wore his heart on his sleeve. It scared her, and if she was being honest with herself, he was right when he said that she was in danger of pushing him away to preserve her own emotions. And that was part of the problem - she couldn't put her finger on _why_ that was her gut reaction.

 

She knew his mind better than she knew hers. She knew how _he_ was feeling, but she couldn’t be as confident about herself.

 

Her relationship with Bellamy had surprised her - it had been born out of necessity, an accident really, and he’d quickly become one of the most important people in her life. Not only that, he’d also become the person she went to with everything and anything, the first and last person she wanted to talk to each and every day.

 

She knew they were in a relationship in every sense the word, except for actually  _saying_ it.

 

And she knew that she was falling in love with him.

 

And yet, there was something holding her back. Was she scared that it would all break down and she’d have dedicated to much of herself to him, like she’d done in past relationships? She didn’t want to ruin what they had, but she sure as hell didn’t want to push him away so that she had nothing to ruin in the first place.

 

Her thoughts muddled in her brain, pushing out ideas of time signatures and segments of dance moves as they battled to be in the forefront of her mind.

 

She tried to focus as the elevator came to a halt on the ground floor of the hotel lobby. She _really didn’t need this right now._

 

They made their way to the main entrance where a shuttle bus had been hired to shepherd the hotel guests to the nearby theatre where the competition was taking place. Mr Kane met them outside and gave them a rousing pep talk as they boarded the bus, but mostly Clarke tried to keep her mind blank and her focus on the songs and choreography they'd been learning so rigorously over the last few months.

 

It mostly didn’t work. By the time they were pulling up outside the theatre, they were all in a quiet, contemplative mood.

 

The one positive was that they had arrived just in time to catch the Grounders before they performed. As they entered through one of the backstage doors and headed into the wings, Murphy made a beeline for Emori, sweeping her off her feet as soon as he reached her.

 

“Break a leg,” he told her as they hugged tightly.

 

The rest of the Ground Sound were standing nearby, milling about as they waited for their imminent announcement to make their way to centre stage. Emori was clearly nervous, but they all were. Even Echo tapped her foot against the floor in a nervous tick. Only Lincoln and Luna looked calm enough to engage in small talk.

 

Clarke took a spot besides Lincoln and Octavia, trying to act as normal as possible around Bellamy as he conversed with his sister.

 

Now that they'd made it to the competition venue and the atmosphere was seeping into her bones, reminding her why they were all here and what was at stake, she was annoyed at herself - for letting a relationship interfere in what they'd been working so hard towards, and for breaking her focus. It was like the Lexa fiasco all over again, and if she messed it up this time, she wouldn’t blame her friends for not speaking to her ever again.

 

This was her last chance at going to Nationals, but for most of them, it was theirs too. They pretended that she was the only one they were really competing for, but she knew from the way that they spoke about the ICCAs and their enjoyment of acapella, they wanted it almost as badly as she did.

 

Seemingly out of nowhere, the MC announced The Ground Sound, his voice cutting across the whispered conversations echoing around the wings.

 

There was a sharp but hushed chorus of ‘break a leg’s’ from Acapadia, a little bit of quick hugging, straightening of outfits and fixing of hair, and then the Grounders were filing out onto stage, performance personas in place.

 

Clarke hadn’t had a chance to talk to Octavia in all the commotion, but the younger girl caught her eye as she filed passed and gave her confident smile.

 

From the very first moment, it was clear that the Grounders had decided to change up their set. If their different starting positions weren't obvious enough, the opening bars of a gentle and smooth humming to Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah instead of Set Fire To The Rain were a clear indication. The smattering of murmurs from the members of other competing groups spying from the wings indicated their interest and surprise.

 

Even Acapadia were a little surprised. It was unusual for a group to change up their act at every performance throughout the season - a song here or there usually happened along the way as things were tweaked - but to open with a completely different number meant learning a whole other song and choreography. Learning three and perfecting them throughout the year was the most confident way to be as perfect as possible, and therefore be judged the highest, so learning a fourth, or even a fifth or sixth, was highly unusual.

 

_And slightly mad._

 

But Clarke couldn’t fault that they sounded _beautiful_.

 

Luna took most of the opening solo, but in each progressive verse they added a harmonising voice, until the end had her, Octavia and Helios singing in unison with Lincoln and Emori all singing in tandem creating a waterfall with their lines. Echo and Nyko made the bass notes, giving an illusion to instruments.

 

Clarke was incredibly jealous that she hadn’t created that arrangement, and made a mental note to badger Lincoln about it later on.

 

She envied the way their set had been organised, too. It gradually built momentum with Imagine Dragon’s Radioactive, and then built to the energetic Timber at the end.

 

They hadn’t completely relearnt a full set, but they still had five songs with which to play around for their Nationals set, if they got through.

 

When _they got through_ , Clarke corrected herself.

 

Drawing the short straw to perform first or not, she had no doubt that the audience would remember them.

 

When they finally filed off stage to the opposite wing, it was to thunderous applause.

 

“What a way to start the show, ladies and gentlemen!” The MC was saying.

 

Clarke turned to survey her own group. Watching from backstage was great to check out the competition, but it could quickly and dangerously psych you out instead.

 

And by the looks of it, the few groups also waiting nervously in the wings were thinking the same thing, too.

 

After the second and third groups had performed - one an all-male acapella group who were new to the circuit and fairly rusty, the other a favourite from the local area who evidently had a lot of alumni support in the audience, Clarke decided enough was enough. She ushered the rest of Acapadia backstage to an empty dressing room and tried to get them to turn off the stage tannoy so they would stop worrying so much. They ran through some vocal warm ups for a bit, but they didn't want to strain their voices so close to going on stage.

 

They waited out another hour backstage, mostly listening to Raven and Monty argue over some sort of mechanical problem they were encountering in Engineering Club.

 

After warm ups, Bellamy had stalked off to find his sister when Murphy had declared his intentions to disappear and find Emori, so Clarke hadn’t had a chance to make things right between them, even if she had wanted to.

 

When the group due to perform before them were announced, a steward came to collect them with a ten minute warning. They gathered their things and headed back towards the stage.

 

Most of the groups had performed by this stage of the evening, so the atmosphere backstage was noticeably more relaxed than it had been previously.

 

As the group on stage began their second number - they appeared to be doing two longer numbers rather than the usual three, a risk that Clarke wasn’t sure would pay off for them- Raven, Monty and Harper decided to sneak a look round the curtains to the audience.

 

Clarke was in a world of her own, focused so intently on trying to focus on the performance that they were about to give, that she didn’t realise right away that the surprised voices were directed towards her.

 

“Clarke?”

 

“Hello, earth to Clarke?”

 

She blinked, looked up, and noticed seven pairs of eyes staring straight at her.

 

“Uh, what?”

 

“Don’t freak out,” Raven prefixed her sentence, which only served to speed up her heart rate even more, “but she's here.”

 

Clarke blinked, missing something.

 

“—Your mum,” Monty clarified gently, although Clarke got the distinct impression this wasn't the first time he'd said it.

 

For a second, the words and their meaning did not compute in her brain.

 

She blinked, slowly and deliberately, for a third time, glancing towards Harper and Raven for confirmation, then swallowed nervously.

 

“She’s—?”

 

Clarke didn’t even know how to finish her sentence.

 

Monty nodded as Harper moved the curtain for her to see.

 

She took three long strides over to them and carefully peaked behind the heavy curtain, tying not to move it too much lest it draw attention.

 

“There,” Harper whispered to her, pointing in a direction towards the front middle of the grand circle.

 

For a moment, all Clarke could see was the bright light illuminating the stage, and then figures came into view. One figure, in particular, drew her attention almost immediately.

 

Monty was right. There was no mistaking that her mother was sitting in the audience, wedged awkwardly between an older couple with emblazoned t-shirts for Anya's group, United Acapella, and a rather distressed woman surrounded by four toddlers.

 

Abby Griffin looked a little awkward, clutching the running order in a hand which usually performed surgery.

 

“Oh.” 

 

Clarke couldn't manage to verbalise much more.

 

Her mind was racing, and yet, she didn’t think any coherent thoughts were forming. Her hands had begun to shake. She started breathing rapidly.

 

Logically, she knew that it shouldn’t make a difference to her performance whether her mother was in the audience or not. She would have still performed exactly the same if she hadn’t known Abby was here.

 

And yet, now that she knew, it made the world of difference to her.

 

Abby disapproved of her interest in acapella, and she hadn’t been to a performance - be it a competition, a school show, or just to watch her perform in choir at Christmas - in the last _four_ _years_.

 

_She hadn’t had a parent in the audience, cheering her on, since her father had died._

 

The thought hit her like a brick wall.

 

“--And now, please welcome to the stage another group from Arkadia, this time with a different sound, it’s Acapadia!”

 

Raven grabbed her firmly around the upper arms, looked her in the eyes, and said sharply, “You can do this, Clarke.”

 

She felt herself nod, but wasn’t entirely convinced.

 

Her mind just wouldn’t - couldn’t - focus.

 

They moved out onto stage, Clarke mostly walking by muscle memory, taking up her position by routine rather than any deliberate choice.

 

As Bellamy passed her, he squeezed her hand. The touch and firmness jolted her out of her spiral, drawing her attention back to the bright lights, engaging audience, and the competition at hand.

 

She gave him a tight nod and small smile in thanks, and was relieved to see that his lips twitched into a reassuring, crooked smile of his own.

 

She raised her pitch pipe with a hand that still trembled, but managed to take a deep, steadying breath, and then blew it.

 

Bellamy and Raven began _Breathe_ , and she was powerless to control her movements after that.

 

Usually, performing on stage was a thrill - exhilarating and scary in a good way all at once - but this time she just felt paralysed by fear.

 

She bumped into Harper as they rotated slowly around the stage during the chorus, and then, to make matters worse, barely thirty seconds later she sang the wrong harmony during the bridge.

 

Jasper corrected his own pitch to match, but it was a bit of a desperate cover up.

 

Murphy gave her a serious look as the song came to a close - he was moving to take up his position for Grease Lightning and it meant he had his back to the audience for a few seconds, so he was perfectly placed to whisper to her, “Get it together, Clarke.”

 

His tone was surprisingly gentle, but she knew she could always count on him for tough love.

 

She stood in a line with Raven and Harper either side of her whilst Murphy began his solo and Miller started the beatboxing. A light touch to her hand surprised her for a moment, but she tried to keep her movements minimal as she glanced down and saw Raven placing her hand in hers in reassurance. To her left, Harper had done the same.

 

They were both solid, steady presences and she was never more grateful for them than she was then.

 

_Why couldn't she get her brain under control._

 

_Oh god, was she on the verge of a panic attack?_

 

Grease Lightning went smoother, but the audience weren’t really feeling it. Sometimes popular songs just fell flat, and unfortunately this appeared to be one of those nights.

 

They faced starting You Will Be Found highly aware that they were losing the audience’s attention, and with it, the judge’s.

 

Clarke moved off to downstage right, lamenting the loss of Harper and Raven’s reassuring touch, as the lights went down and they readjusted their places to begin their last song.

 

_They have have been able to claw back their set with this song, if it all went smoothly._

 

After all, You Will Be Found was probably their most confident number.

 

But then, she caught sight of her mum in the audience, staring down at the playbill in her hand and not at her daughter on stage.

 

It might have simply been a bad moment, but it upset and angered Clarke.

 

She’d put her heart and soul into this performance - into _all_ the performances she’d done over the years - and her mother _still_ couldn’t appreciate how important it was to her to be on stage and to perform.

 

She missed her cue for the opening verse.

 

Raven, Miller, Murphy, Monty and Jasper recovered well, repeating the beginning bars to the background vocals. Harper and Bellamy hadn’t encountered this before, so they took another two bars to catch up. It was a fairly obvious mistake, but not unforgivable. Clarke tried to look like it was all part of the plan and not like she hated herself for it.

 

“ _Have you ever felt like nobody was there_ …”

 

She forced the words out at the right moment, and had a brief moment of relief that  _something_ was going right.

 

She tried to project confidence to the audience, but she knew she was shaking.

 

She messed up the next line, and had to repeat it twice.

 

This was all going wrong, and it was all her fault.

 

“ _You can reach, reach out your hand…_ ”

 

“— _And_ _oh oh…”_

 

Clarke had never been more grateful for Raven’s quick brain.

 

As the verse moved on, her friend stepped in for her to complete the last few lines. It was the best place for Raven to have done so - virtually indistinguishable as an ad lib.

 

As Raven stepped forward, Clarke stepped back. She knew that was the same choreography Monty would repeat in a moment, and it would look seamless.

 

_Hopefully._

 

“ _There’s a place where we don’t have to feel alone,”_ Monty took over, and him and Raven traded off places as seamlessly as she’d hoped.

 

_God, she was glad for them all._

 

By the end of their set, Clarke couldn’t wait to get off stage.

 

She’d never felt like that before, never felt that _inadequate_ on stage.

 

It made her feel sick.

 

The audience clapped and cheered as they exited.

 

As soon as she knew she was safely hidden in the wings, Clarke’s legs buckled.

 

Bellamy caught her, and then three pairs of hands were also holding her up.

 

“I’m so sorry,” She managed to choke out.

 

She was pretty sure she’d just cost them a place at Nationals.

 

They had all been so professional, so able to quickly think on their feet and cover her mistakes. She hadn't noticed any one of them do anything wrong during that performance. It was only her who hadn't stepped up.

 

She spent the next half and hour sitting alone backstage, hiding from them all and trying to decide how to face them all.

  

In a way, it was a blessing that they didn’t have to wait long for the results to be in.

 

The judges tallied as they went, scoring on certain set guidelines and then ranking each group against each other. They simply needed to add all of their scores together and create an overall ranking. The top two would be going through to Nationals with those placing third, fourth and fifth being eligible to apply as a Wildcard.

 

There were too many groups performing at Regionals for them to all be summoned to stage, so they listened to the announcement from the wings instead.

 

Clarke joined them off-stage right - they gave her hugs and reassurances that it wasn't her fault, but they just felt like empty words to Clarke. She hung back behind the rest of Acapadia and the Grounders whilst they milled around nervously for the MC to speak.

 

The Ground Sound were announced as placing first, to nobody’s surprise.

 

Bellamy picked his sister up off her feet and swung her around. Octavia’s laughter was so loud the MC mentioned it from his position on stage.

 

“Congratulations, guys and girls, that was a worthy win, we can’t wait to see what you have for us next at the ICCAs… and now, for the final results, the last group advancing forward towards Nationals…”

 

Clarke couldn’t bear the wait and she really didn’t want to see the look on the other’s faces when they weren’t announced.

 

Perhaps a small part of her hoped, though, because when the MC announced the advancing group, a part of her still shattered.

 

“United Acapella!”

 

The yellow-clad group across the wings to the other side of the stage erupted into joyous cheers and jubilant hugs.

 

A few of the other groups around them trailed off fairly quickly, making their way back to their hotel or dressing room to discuss what went wrong, no doubt.

 

Clarke forced herself to face her group.

 

They were mostly exchanging sad words and good-natured handshakes with The Ground Sound.

 

“I’m sorry, big brother,” Octavia was saying, “you were great, they’re stupid for not putting you through.”

 

“It’s ok, O,” Bell gave his sister a firm hug and smiled at her. “Maybe I can scrape together some money to still come and see you when you perform in New York.”

 

“--sorry, John…” Emori was saying. He pulled her into a long hug and whispered words of encouragement about her own performance. Emori held him tightly and hugged him back.

 

Luna, Raven, Monty and Jasper were discussing dinner plans to take their mind off the news, trying to let it sink in.

 

They were all so absorbed, that they missed the announcement they had placed fourth. Harper had to repeat it for them.

 

“That’s almost a medal place,” She offered cheerfully.

 

Their faces were so sad and they were so gracious. It was suddenly all too much for Clarke.

 

She knew two things clearly: she blamed herself, and she didn’t want to cause them any more harm.

 

So finally, she decided that enough was enough - if they wanted to apply for the Wildcard position, they’d be better off without her on stage with them.

 

If she couldn't be trusted on stage when they needed her most, maybe it was time she retired herself from acapella.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've expanded the number of chapters on this fic (again, oops) from 7 to 8. I've got a plan all worked out, so there is a concrete ending, the number of chapters just keeps expanding as I keep writing more than I plan to, whoops!
> 
> For those of you who sent me questions on tumblr or comments here about which songs the delinquents would sing, thank you! It seems like we all want Murphy to sing something from Bonnie & Clyde, so I'm going to try to make that happen!
> 
> As always, let me know what you think in the comments or on Tumblr at kykru.tumblr.com/ask
> 
> I'll try to have the next chapter up a lot sooner than this one!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally something new!

Clarke didn’t turn up to rehearsals the week after Regionals.

 

She’d told them on the bus back that she would be taking a step back, but they clearly hadn’t believed her. They pointed out that she hadn’t gone a week without practising  since she had been old enough to understand performing, they tried to reason that they’d all made mistakes too, and “besides, most of our critiques were about our pacing, so we would have been ranked the same either way”, but Clarke hadn’t agreed.

 

She didn’t want to never see her friends, but she didn’t want to encroach on their rehearsal time, so she’d decided that steering clear would be in the best interest for everyone, at least for the next few weeks until she could make a more permanent decision.

 

Even without Nationals, they usually filled their time hanging out and practicing new songs for their repertoire, dusting them off and perfecting them at social functions at school or around their town. They’d made a bit of a name for themselves as a reliable, fun, and cheap performance act throughout Arkadia, and they did get booked fairly steadily during the summer months. She knew she’d miss spending her summer this way, but no mater what her heart wanted her to do, the stubborn part of her brain was telling her that staying away would be better for them all, in the long run.

 

So instead, Clarke had told her mum over dinner on Thursday that she was free to do an extra shift shadowing at the hospital on Saturday morning, if that was ok with her. Either Abby hadn’t realised where this free time was suddenly coming from, or she didn’t want to mention it, because she simply gave her daughter a pleased smile and passed her the salt.

 

It had only been a few days since Regionals, but they hadn’t spoken about the performance. Abby had given her her commiserations that they hadn’t gone through on Sunday night when they had returned home, but otherwise there hadn’t been on mention of the performance, or of Clarke’s faults.

 

So, when Saturday morning had come around, Clarke had tried to forget that the others would be at rehearsals.

 

It proved fruitless, however, because when she left the hospital at 2pm and turned her phone on, she had a least two texts from each of them, six missed calls from Raven, and a voicemail from Bellamy.

 

She scrolled through the texts - mostly a progressing level of confusion and interrogation — and then she listened to the voicemail.

 

Her and Bellamy hadn’t really had time to talk since they’d come back from Regionals — they’d sunk into a limbo of unspoken agreement not to talk about their relationship.

 

Things weren’t awkward between them, as such, they were just… polite, careful.

 

“Hey, Clarke, we’re all here at rehearsals, wondering where you are… We know you said you’d miss a few but we thought you’d be here today… anyway, give me a call when you can, there’s a running of that really bad SyFy movie you like at the theatre house tonight, if you, er- if you want to go anyway, it might not be your thing, or you might not want to... you might be busy? I just thought, y’know, that it would be, might be, could… yeah, er, call me back?”

 

The line went dead after his awkward stammering. She couldn’t help smiling to herself - he could be so confident, so selfless, and yet he was also the most awkward and nerdy person she’d ever met.

 

She _missed_ him, and she was sick of the awkward air between them.

 

Her phone was dialling his number before she could even think twice about it. He answered on the second ring, all concern and sincerity.

 

“Clarke?”

 

“Who leaves a voicemail in this day and age, Bellamy,” she deadpanned in greeting.

 

She could almost feel him rolling his eyes in amusement.

 

“Where have you been?” He asked kindly. “Everybody’s freaking out that you weren’t at rehearsals.”

 

“I’m fine,” She tried to sound cheerful. “Sorry I wasn’t there, I’m trying to put in more time at the hospital... you know, for college applications. Are you all doing ok, do you need help decoding my shorthand?”

 

She wanted to keep the question light and playful, but it felt like she missed the mark a little.

 

He paused on the other end of the line and she was suddenly certain that she was about to get some trademark Bellamy Blake honesty.

 

Sure enough, when he spoke his words were soft but still belied some frustration, “Clarke, what are you doing?”

 

“Right now? I’m walking—“

 

“With Acapadia,” He clarified, straight to the point. So Bellamy. “We need you if we’re going to do this Wildcard thing—“ She couldn’t help smiling at his cluelessness when it came to terminology. “—and Raven is trying her best but one rehearsal without you has made it pretty clear that we have no idea what we’re doing.”

 

“You know more than you think,” she said.

 

Bellamy huffed on the other end of the line, and she heard some shuffling papers as if he was getting up from the desk in his room.

 

“Where are you?” He asked suddenly. “You know I hate talking like this.”

 

She grinned at that.

 

“I’m walking through town, by the park.”

 

He didn’t hesitate.

 

“I’ll meet you on the corner where the ice-cream truck parks,” He said resolutely, then the line went dead and she was turning to alter her path.

 

When she caught sight of him on the corner five minutes later, she couldn’t help but feel that odd mixture of excitement and anxiety she always felt around him. Being with him made her feel scared, but it was light and fluttery, it bubbled rather than burnt.

 

“Hi,” He scratched the back of his head as she came to a stop in front of him. He was wearing an old hoodie even though they were standing in blazing sunshine.

 

“Hi,” She smiled back, glad to be able to hang out with him outside school and outside acapella.

 

“Got any plans this evening?” He smiled. His eyes were confident, teasing, but his voice was nervous. 

 

She hitched her bag higher up her shoulder and breathed out a surprised laugh.

 

“I thought you’d want to grill me about coming back to acapella,” it was a question more than a statement.

 

He smiled down at her like she was the only thing worth seeing, and took a step forwards so that there was hardly a few inches between them. She could feel his soft breath on her cheek and see the sweat on his brow.

 

“I don’t want to talk about acapella,” he told her, a smile playing at his eyes but his face serious. “I’m sick of going back and forth all the time. I’m sick of having to organise our lives around other people or school work or college applications. Just for once, just now, I feel like enjoying myself. I want to have some fun and I want to hang out with my _girlfriend_ and forget about everything for a few hours… what about you?”

 

He'd never called her his girlfriend before, but she found it a welcome change.

 

She met his gaze and stepped further into him. Her next words were the most honest she’d spoken all day.

 

“I honestly can’t think of anything better.”

 

He was flirting, finally acting himself again, and she felt a piece of herself slot back into place in response.

 

They hadn’t spoken about Raven’s comment at Regionals, or indeed about her avoidance of their relationship or how upset it made him. But he was giving her time.

 

Bellamy was always the one to follow her lead, to be patient and kind and ask what she needed. She loved that about him - she had always felt comfort and trust around him - but she also recognised that it may be time she start pulling herself out of her comfort zone for the sake of putting _him_ first.

 

He raised a hand gently to brush away some stray strands of hair from her face.

 

“Come on,” he said, taking the pile of books out of her hands, “Octavia’s out so we’ve got the place to ourselves until the movie starts.”

 

“Don’t get any ideas, Blake,” she teased as they turned towards his apartment. He laughed freely and loudly.

 

Her heart felt lighter.

 

* * *

 

 

“You are aware that half these answers you’ve put are just random numbers, right?” Raven said bluntly from her seat at the desk in Clarke’s bedroom.

 

She glanced up from Clarke’s mock math test and raised one questioning eyebrow.

 

Clarke hesitated, then shrugged half-heartedly, throwing herself - and Raven’s math work - backwards onto her bed.

 

“I honestly have no idea.”

 

They were grading each other’s homework and helping each other study. It was a Monday evening and Abby was out at work. She’d left Clarke to order pizza for dinner, something she hadn’t done in a long time, but which used to be a tradition for Clarke and Raven whenever Abby had to work late at the hospital when they were younger — they’d order pizza, watch movies and pretend they’d done their homework when Abby came home.

 

The tradition had been modified over the years, but mostly they had progressed to actually doing their homework, instead of just pretending to, as their interest in subjects expanded and the importance of grades for college became more pressing.

 

They had planned to invite the others over for pizza — Raven had insisted it would be good to get everyone together if Clarke wasn’t going to come to rehearsals any longer. Raven’s anecdotes about rehearsals this week were a welcome distraction from perfecting college applications and grading mock exam papers. They made Clarke laugh, but they also made her realise just how much she missed being included in those moments.

 

From the increasing frequency of the anecdotes, Clarke suspected that Raven was probably going to try to stage an intervention of sorts if the rest of their friends came over to outnumber her, so she’d convinced Raven just to keep the evening for them two.

 

It had been a long time since they’d been together, just the two of them, and she intended to enjoy her time with her oldest friend.

 

Raven threw her paper onto the desk and smacked her fists against it with a frustrated sigh. Clarke suspected her friend was more frustrated with correcting her answers than actually tired of marking.

 

"This is more tiring than trying to arrange Seasons of Love for eight people."

 

Clarke gave her a sympathetic look from across the room.

 

She knew that headache well.

 

There was a pause as she considered whether to delve into the topic or not. In the end, she couldn’t resist.

 

"How is it going?" She asked tentatively. "With the Wildcard entry?"

 

Raven dragged her hand over her face wearily. 

 

"It's... a unique challenge."

 

"You'll get there," Clarke tried to offer helpfully.

 

Raven levelled her with a trademark honest stare.

 

"We'd be doing a lot better if we had you to help.”

 

Clarke knew her face immediately closed up. She switched her gaze to the evening light filtering through her open window.

 

"Raven, don't."

 

"I'm just saying--"

 

"I'd be in the way."

 

Raven groaned a guttural noise of frustration. ”You're too stubborn for your own good, Clarke."

 

Clarke sighed and made to open her mouth to protest, but Raven beat her to it.

 

"Look, I know the others keep saying we need you… I'll be honest -- we don't. We can do this without you. Despite what they think about my musical abilities, I can arrange it just fine. it won't be perfect, but it'll be something..."

 

Raven spun in the chair so that she was facing her straight on, and Clarke was forced to meet her stare.

 

“But that’s not the point, Clarke. We don't _need_ you to babysit us. We can handle these things on our own, trust me. But… we're better with you. We all are. Harper's more daring in her choreography, Murphy turns up on time, Jasper and Monty are more focused. Even _I_ enjoy it more with you there; you hold me accountable to be my best each and every time we go on stage - and everyone knows Bellamy wouldn't have stuck around this long without you. The point is, we don't _need_ you to win this Wildcard entry - but we _want_ you with us."

 

Her words surprised Clarke so much she didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected or even considered that aspect. She’d been so focused on how much she wanted to leave them be, she hadn’t stopped to think that maybe they didn’t _want_ to be left.

 

”Raven…”

 

“Don’t you dare give up on your dream, Clarke,” Raven warned her, but she knew her words were intended as a support.

 

"That's not what I'm doing Raven.”

 

"Isn't it? Even Bellamy's said he's seen less of you."

 

Clarke tried not to bristle at that, or feel embarrassed that they’d all been discussing her whilst she hadn't been around. ”Look, it’s just… maybe my mum's right, maybe I should be focusing on college…”

 

“What,” Raven rolled her eyes, getting up to cross the room and join Clarke on the bed. “And the rest of us aren't?"

 

Clarke glared at her. “You know that’s not what I mean…” She sighed. “It's not that easy Raven. It was my fault we lost out at Regionals. I'm supposed to be the one keeping us together, but I can't even trust myself. What if we do get to Nationals and I crumble again."

 

"What if you don’t?"

 

It was Clarke’s turn to be frustrated.

 

She huffed out a,  "God you sound like Bellamy,” before she could think better of it.

 

Raven smirked, but only said, "I sound like everyone. Believe me when I say that _nobody_ is blaming you, Clarke. We all just want you back... and if it’s the workload you're worried about, I'll help. I know I haven’t been very focused before, and we all know that I contributed nothing last year, but all my college applications are in now, I've got some time. And, believe it or not, I _enjoy_ acapella and I’m gonna miss it like hell when this year ends.”

 

Clarke could feel herself crumbling.

 

She _missed_ it. Her friends missed _her_.

 

_Why the hell was she torturing them all like this?_

 

Her mind started to race with possibilities, justifications.

 

She could give herself a small part in the back, she could arrange the songs and only step in to keep them on track. She didn't need to be a focus or put herself in the middle of it all.

 

She always felt that she needed to put herself on a pedestal because there was nobody else to take charge, but that wasn't true.

 

Raven was right - they _could_ do it without her, they had the drive and talent to, but they’d always _wanted_ her to lead them instead.

 

"If I come back-- and I mean _if_ ," Raven was grinning already, so Clarke tried to ignore her. "I'd only arrange the songs, and stand in the back. Harper can plan choreography and you can be in charge of rehearsals.”

 

Raven smirked wider, and Clarke knew already that they were both thinking the same thing - Raven would follow her lead and Clarke would probably take over rehearsals the minute they stepped back into that auditorium. But at least the support system was there this time - Clarke didn’t need to take it all on, and she could make a conscious decision to step out of the spotlight this time.

 

"Sounds good to me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Although Raven and Bellamy had gone a long way in convincing her that their friends hadn’t blamed her for their failure to advance at Regionals, and although their group chat had been blowing up for the past week as the others begged for her to return, Clarke was still worried that it would only be selfish of her to come back.

 

But she’d made the decision now, and once she made up her mind she never went back on her word.

 

At lunch the next day, she approached their table with some trepidation. Her friends weren't angry with her, they weren't blaming her or upset with her, but she still didn't know how they'd react.

 

_They might not like her waltzing back in and taking over again._

 

"Hi," she opened with, clutching her lunch tray with both hands.

 

"Clarke!"

 

"Where have you been?!"

 

"Thank god."

 

"Please tell me this means you're coming back to acapella?" Harper pleaded, sounding exhausted.

 

They had pages and pages of sheet music spread out on the table between them all, their lunches forgotten. From what Clarke could gather there was no rhyme or reason whatsoever to the pieces.

 

The thought gave her an idea.

 

"I'd like to," she told them tentatively. "If that's ok with you all? I know I really messed up at Regionals--"

 

"You're not the only one," Murphy glared across the table at Miller.

 

"I only kicked you the once!" Miller defended himself. Harper, Monty and Raven exchanged amused looks so Clarke assumed this was an argument they'd had before.

 

"And hit me in the face!”

 

"I'll admit I kicked you during Grease Lightning, but there's no way in hell I hit you in the face, Murphy. You don’t even have a black eye!”

 

They continued to argue until Harper interrupted them, turning her attention back to Clarke.

 

"Look, you had a bad moment, we get it. We’ve all been there. But you can’t just blame yourself for it all - we weren't faultless either..."

 

"I tripped so bad at the end of Breathe," Monty supplied in support of Harper’s claim, wincing at the memory.

 

"And I forgot my backflip at the bridge to Grease Lightning," Harper continued. "My point is, we weren't all flawless and we got the score we deserved. You can't blame yourself for being the sole reason we didn't advance. And we don't blame you either."

 

Clarke glanced around at her friends and was filled with love for them all. They always had her back and they wanted her back no matter what.

 

Bellamy got up and pulled out a chair for Clarke to sit in. Finally, she didn’t hesitate. She took the seat between them gratefully.

 

“What is all this?” Clarke asked them, pointing towards the music adorning the tabletop.

 

“Potential Wildcard setlist,” Bellamy said, gesturing with his fork.

 

He was wearing his glasses, she noticed, so they must have really been deep in discussion when she’d arrived. He only wore them to read or when he was deep in concentration on a paper or test.

 

“To be honest, we’re a bit lost.”

 

Clarke glanced around at her friends in confusion.

 

"Raven said you were managing ok?”

 

Raven, ever relaxed, was focusing on eating as much of her lunch as possible but said proudly around a mouthful of salad, "I lied. We suck without you.”

 

The others all nodded in agreement and looked rather downcast.

 

“You’d think that with this much choice in front of us, we’d have figured it out by now,” Monty sighed, gesturing again at the papers in front of them.

 

“I think that’s your problem,” Clarke supplied slowly, moving some of the papers around. “You haven’t decided what you want the set to _say_ , you’re just looking for a needle in a haystack right now.”

 

“It would help if you didn’t always veto all my suggestions,” Murphy grumbled from Bellamy’s left.

 

“Your suggestions suck, Murphy.”

 

He looked offended, and Clarke wasn’t sure if he actually might have been, at least a little. “Bonnie & Clyde is a staple in the musical theatre community, you just don’t have taste.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“If anybody gets a veto on a musical, it’s got to be Newsies, come on!”

 

“Will you shut up about that damn show, Jasper.”

 

“Never!”

 

“Nobody is going to care about Newsies, or Bonnie & Clyde - we should stick to classics, like Les Mis or Rent.”

 

“What about movie musicals? Like Singing In The Rain, or Top Hat? We shouldn’t limit ourselves to just Andrew Lloyd Webber.”

 

Raven and Clarke exchanged a meaningful look whilst the argument raged on.

 

“Alright delinquents,” Raven spoke up, quieting them all. “We need some order to this rabble or we’re just gonna be a ragtag group of teenagers singing over one another.”

 

“Actually—“ Clarke couldn’t stop the words from leaving her mouth or the excited smile from playing at her lips. “I have an idea.”

 

Raven clocked her expression immediately and, true to form, her brain caught up quicker than the others could. She slammed both hands down on the table in front of her as Harper and Monty exchanged looks and Jasper dropped his cutlery in surprise.

 

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

 

"I'm saying we should combine our favourite parts of musicals in acapella form to show the ICCAs what we're all about."

 

“So..." Raven prompted excitedly.

 

Clarke exchanged a long look with Bellamy, who rolled his eyes in amusement. He also knew what she was going to say.

 

"Yes, Raven," Clarke sighed, but she was trying not to laugh. “I never thought I’d say this, but… I think we should do a mash-up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this out there. I'm the worst at starting stories without planning an ending, so I've really struggled for motivation with this recently. That, coupled with being insanely busy and getting my scenes all mixed up into no coherent order, meant I've kind of neglected this recently. But it's not abandoned, I promise! I've planned a bit more this time, so there should be more to come sooner rather than later! Thanks for sticking with this, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, Wildcard stuff to come next!
> 
> As always, hmu at kykru.tumblr.com if you wanna cry over Bellarke or musicals. Thanks for all the kudos and comments, I honestly wouldn't be updating without them, so you're all the absolute best.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and talk to me on Tumblr, I'm kykru.tumblr.com


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